Compassion, and the Lack Thereof
by ImperialArchangel
Summary: It is a commonly known fact that those who suffer abuse often become those who abuse. Abused children become child abusers, and the bullied become bullies. It takes a special kind of hero to lift people out of that cycle, and Izuku was, uplifted by All Might. But what if he hadn't been? Abandoned by all but one, Izuku saved himself, but at the bloody cost of maintaining the cycle.
1. Chapter 1

_She was pretty. Really pretty._

_ Messy blond hair, tied into a haphazard bun. Pale, ghostly skin that almost seemed to glow in the dim, orange light. Thin, gentle fingers tipped with chipped crimson nails._

_ The little girl huddled closer to the woman on the sofa, nuzzling into her belly. It was warm and soft, like a pillow that was fresh out of the dryer. The girl always liked clothes that were just dried. They were a special kind of warm, and they smelled nice._

_ But the woman didn't smell nice. The woman smelled different now. Before, she smelled like flowers. It was a gentle smell, the sort that tickled the girl's nose and made her smile. That smell was still there, but it was different. It was too strong, like someone was pinching her nose, and it mingled with the woman's nasty breath. The girl's eyes drifted, catching sight of the glass bottles on the table. There were a few of them, all of them empty. Whenever the woman drank that many, the girl got worried._

_ "Did you have a good day at daycare?" The woman spoke softly, her fingers combing through the girl's hair._

_ "Y-yeah…" The little girl smiled. It was a nervous, forced action. It felt wrong on her face, like sweet syrup being poured over burnt pancakes. But the girl didn't want to tell her the truth. She didn't want to see the woman cry. "My friends and I made up a game to play at recess!"_

_ "That's wonderful…" The woman's eyes blinked slowly, hazy and unfocused. She was smiling, as though floating in a dream. "I'm always so glad to hear that. What was the game?"_

_ The girl paused for a moment, her smile flickering. She hadn't made up a game today. Her friends hadn't wanted to talk with her. They hadn't for a while. But looking at the woman, meeting her sleepy gaze, the girl knew she couldn't say that._

_ "We… uh," She forced the smile back onto her face, gulping down the sickly sweet syrup. "It was like tag, but with special rules. We couldn't use our quirks, and we had to tag a rock to be untagged."_

_ The woman chuckled, and hugged the girl close. "Was it fun?"_

_ "Uh-huh!"_

_ "That's great… Do you think you could help me a little tonight? I had... a stressful day." The woman's tone didn't change in the slightest, but the girl's stomach tied itself in knots._

_ Out of the corner of her eye, the girl saw something. Tucked between the bottles on the side table, warm orange light bounced off of cold metal, tracing the smooth, sharp curves of a knife. Of _the _knife. The one that was always there. The girl held back a shiver, and looked up into the woman's eyes. Fear settled in her stomach like a fat stone, but she ignored it, trying her hardest to be enthusiastic. Mama had always said she needed to stop being afraid if she wanted to help people._

_ "Okay!"_

_ The woman licked her lips, and reached for the knife. "Thank you, dear…" _

)ooOoo(

"It's not bad to dream, but you have to face reality, young man." There was the scrape of metal against concrete, and the door to the roof closed, leaving Izuku alone.

Anyone can be a hero. That's what he had been told his whole life. Anyone, with enough training and determination, could become a hero. It's what every child wanted, what _Izuku _had always wanted.

Izuku had been laughed at, beaten, and pushed around. Even today, he had been told to go throw himself off a building. But he had held on. Because, at the end of the day, after all the cuts and bruises, the burnt notebooks and public humiliation, All Might had been there. That's who All Might was: the hero that could save anyone.

'Anyone can be a hero.' In every magazine interview, every reality TV appearance, All Might always said it. It was his catch phrase. And those words had always brought a smile to Izuku's face. If anyone could be a hero, so could Izuku. And so, even if no one else believed in him, All Might was there.

But now… now All Might was gone too.

'_I'd be lying if I said you could be a hero without a power.'_

It hadn't felt like a punch to the gut. It had felt like All Might had delivered a Detroit Smash straight to his stomach. All of his blood had been drained from his veins, and replaced with frigid ice water. His feet were lead anchors, sealed in concrete and caught on the ocean floor. The boy stared at the spot his hero had been sitting at, as though he were still sitting there, leaning against the rail and staring at him with those narrow eyes.

He swallowed, but his mouth was dry as desert dirt, filling his throat and choking him. Stumbling forward a few steps, the boy supported himself with the guardrail, his heart and mind still reeling. He felt… Rejected? Disappointed? Empty? No, no, those words didn't fit the way his stomach was tying itself into knots, and how heavy his chest felt. It was some mix of them, a disgusting emotional stew, one that was bitter and overcooked.

The wind was crisp and sharp, suddenly far colder than just a few minutes before. His hands shook as he set his backpack down, and pulled out his notebook.

_Hero Analysis for the Future, No. 13_

The hardback of the notebook was singed, with browns and blacks tarnishing the whites and blues of the cover. The pages, crisp and flaky at the edges, crumbled slightly as he flipped through them.

So many hours poured into these detailed notes.

So much passion, so many nights staying up far too late.

So… useless.

Izuku sifted through the notebook, hands and heart unsteady. His eyes traced every word, but his brain didn't read any of them. It was busy reeling, trying to reorient itself after having it's sole goal shredded in front of it.

He couldn't be a hero. All Might himself said so. The number one hero, the man who Izuku had admired for his heroics and smile, _the man who believed in everyone_, just told him it was impossible.

His eyes fell on the page for Kacchan, and he paused. His entire body steadied for a moment, relaxing as he read through the description of his friend's powers. Every detail he could find, potential uses, potential weaknesses, all written in such detail. But it missed a crucial detail. In fact, every one of these entries did.

It never mentioned who they are.

So much space dedicated to Kacchan's quirk, but not a single word about what he was like, who he really was. Izuku grit his teeth, his gaze filling with confused, tearful fury.

All of these people. Each and every one of them in this notebook, along with athe dozen other notebooks he had written, they could become heroes. Many of them were. Even Kacchan, the boy who had berated and abused him day after day, could become a hero.

But Izuku couldn't. Not according to All might. Not according to everyone else.

Something snapped. Something in Izuku's thin frame shattered under the pressure of his mind drowning in his own thoughts. He was just a worthless deku. To Kacchan. To his classmates. To his hero.

Carefully and methodically, the frail boy tore each and every page out of the notebook, tossing them to the wind. He wouldn't need them. Why was he bothering to write it? Why was he wasting graphite and ink on it? He didn't know how long it took. He didn't care. But eventually, the notebook only had one page left. A large signature of All Might's name, done in sharpie. Izuku hesitated for a moment, but then ripped it out too.

He didn't deserve that signature. He wasn't worthy of it.

And looking at them empty hardcover, Izuku felt truly alone. Purposeless. Powerless. Useless.

A deku, completely and entirely.

)ooOoo(

The walk home was a slow trudge, but it seemed to pass in instants. There had been a fight somewhere in the city, but Izuku ignored it.

A few days ago, he probably would've run in, pen and notebook in hand. Live notes were better than anything you could find online, after all, and he'd have to be ready when he became a hero. His hand clutched the doorknob shakily, and he gave a heartbroken laugh. He wouldn't have to worry about that anymore, at least. He pushed open the door and slipped off his shoes. "... I'm home."

"Welcome back!" His mom glanced over her shoulder, and gave Izuku a worried smile. "Dinner should be ready in a few minutes, if you want to put you want to put your things away."

Izuku simply nodded, unable to bring his typical, if forced, smile to his face. He slunk past his mom, and cracked open the door to his room, as though he had to sneak into it. Mom always gave him that smile, something in the back of his mind said. She was always worried about him. He must cause her so many issues.

Of course he did. Who was he kidding? Things would be so much easier for her if she didn't have to worry about him.

Izuku's bag landed with a _thud, _and he collapsed onto his star-spangled sheets. His eyes wandered aimlessly until settling on a poster. His favorite poster.

It was taped to the wall beside his desk, so that he could always see it while working. It wasn't a fancy poster, or even a big one; just All Might's smiling face, with the words 'ANYONE CAN BECOME A HERO' in big, bold lettering. Izuku smiled for a moment, almost out of habit. That's right, anyone can become a-

And then his brain reversed, full throttle, as he remembered his day. That poster might've been able to convince him when it was Kacchan laughing at him, but when it's All Might himself? Izuku's freckled face scrunched up, holding back tears.

All over the room there was All Might. Posters. Action figures. Even his rug and curtains. That smile used to make Izuku feel strong, like he could make a difference. But now, the hero was just laughing at him, taunting him, just like everyone else. And no matter where he looked, there was another All Might, laughing.

Why was he like this? Why was the world like this? He wanted to be a hero, but he was just a quirkless loser who weighed everyone down. His breathing hitched, and he squeezed his eyes shut, as though that would make his problems go away, a desperate attempt to purge the thoughts that haunted him.

He had been lied to.

The heroes always said that anyone could become a hero, but they forgot to say that 'anyone' excluded those without quirks, excluded _him_. But somehow, it included bullies like Kacchan, who abused their power.

Kacchan was the type that got all the praise. Born with a strong quirk, and he knew it. And so, whenever he pushed someone like Izuku around, no one stopped him. No hero swooped in to save him. He almost growled. It wasn't about helping people, was it? It was about being strong. And if that was the case, what was the difference between heroes and villains? He pushed the thought away, though. Heroes were the only thing he believed in; his heart refused to push them out. If Izuku couldn't believe in them, who could he believe in?

Beneath all the pain, something was building. Slow and heavy, like a fiery beast dragging its feet as it lumbered out of its cave.

It was anger. Anger at his classmates. Anger at all the heroes. Anger at everyone, but no one in particular.

But what was he supposed to do?

He was just a deku.

)ooOoo(

Friday afternoon had arrived, and with the ringing of the school bell, the students of Aldera Junior High were set free. Many casually chatted as they made their way home, enthusiastic about their plans for the weekend, while others simply put in their headphones or leafed through the pages of a book. Cherry blossom petals fluttered on the warm breeze, and the bright blue sky was dotted with patches of clouds that lazily followed their aircurrents.

On days like this, Izuku would usually go to the park to study. He could do that at home, but it would be a waste, really. It also meant he'd be closer to downtown, in case a villain situation broke out, and seeing heroes in person was always so much better than relying on the recordings the news provided.

But today, he did no such thing. His head held low, and walked slowly, as though he was simply following his feet instead of directing them. His emerald eyes locked on the ground in front of him, he only glanced up to avoid running into other students. His lips mumbled apologies to anyone he passed by, and his in his hands was clutched a sheet of paper, neatly folded.

The paper wasn't that big; just a single leaflet he had torn out of his science notebook. But it felt heavy. Far too heavy for any one piece of paper, at least. He had been thinking a lot, and all of those thoughts had spilled out of him, soaking into the paper as red ink. He knew the note was a mess, but there was too much to say, and not enough space. He could've filled pages upon pages with words, explaining everything, but it didn't feel like that would change anything. He had made his decision, and it had to be done today.

At least that's what he told himself as he strolled, taking his time as hesitance weighed on his heart. He forced down his fear, choking down the vile liquid that threatened to drown him. It was better this way, for him, for his mom, for everyone.

The past few days had felt… odd. But not in a good way, no. Empty of purpose, drained of emotion. He'd had days like it before, of course. Izuku was familiar with the emotion, or rather, the distinct lack thereof. He wasn't sad, or angry, or anything like that. His heart just felt sore, like a pulled muscle. The entire world simply existed behind a foggy pain of glass, everything distant and muted, without the slightest bit of urgency or energy.

Izuku was just an observer, watching a dull, lifeless TV show. And all he wanted to do was turn it off. But it would feel wrong not to take one last look at the set.

He seemed to walk through the whole city that afternoon. He passed by apartment buildings and schools, restaurants and convenience stores. He never entered a single one, just watching people as he passed, almost wistfully. So many people, each one living a life just as complicated and messy as his own, if not more so. He could fall off the face of the earth, and everything would continue on as normal for these people. None of them would know, let alone care. The idea sent shivers down his spine.

By the time the sun was setting, he had reached his destination. Izuku had seen enough. Well... Not really. Not at all. But he couldn't bear to see any more. He might stop himself if he kept wandering, and if he was only going to follow through on one thing in his life, it would be this. He entered the building, and began climbing the stairs. There were a lot of stairs, but he took his time. When he reached the rooftop, he sat down, crossing his legs, and pulled his bento out of his backpack.

It was supposed to be his lunch, really. Some rice, a few boiled vegetables, and a couple of hotdogs, all long since cold. He clicked his chopsticks together, and smiled softly. Mom really was the best. He knew she was busy, but she always took the time to make him lunch every morning. She even cut up the hotdogs, slicing them to look like little octopi. The rice was stiff and dry, and the vegetables were practically tasteless, but he savored every bite.

As he ate, his eyes and mind both wandered. The sky really was pretty, the orange sun painting the clouds in hues of red and pink as it dipped below the horizon. There were the sounds of traffic in the distance, but it was actually rather quiet near where he was eating. It was a rather desolate area of the city, now that he thought about it.

One thing that stood out in his mind was that Kacchan hadn't shown up to school for the past few days. He wondered why. His gut twisted at the thought of Kacchan getting hurt. Looking back, his feelings about Kacchan were... complicated. Kacchan was always the one yelling at him, beating him. He was a bully, a tormentor that made Izuku's life a living hell.

But he was still Izuku's friend. He couldn't bring himself to reject that, reject _him_. Their relationship was part of him, a patch sewn into the fiber of his being. He reached down with his chopsticks, only to snap out of his thoughts and find his lunch box empty. He licked his lips, gulping down what was left in his mouth, and clicked the box shut, carefully returning it to his back. He didn't want to make a mess for his mom.

For a moment, he thought about Kacchan. No, he wouldn't be hurt. He probably just skipped school, now that Izuku thought about it. He was far from weak, and his quirk was nothing to scoff at.

He grimaced. It all came back to quirks, didn't it? That was the difference between him and everyone else. He was a deku. His eyes lingered at one particular spot near the guardrail, and his heart ached.

That's where All Might had been sitting. Izuku could practically still see him sitting there, a phantom watching the boy whose dreams he'd crushed.

No, that's not the right phrase… That makes it sound like it was All Might's fault. It wasn't. No, All Might was simply answering his question honestly. Izuku just had stupid dreams. He had his entire life. The system made it impossible for him to achieve them, and everyone had told him so, but he had just ignored them. He had been childish, thinking that, if he tried hard enough, he could make it through.

It was immature.

_He _was immature.

But he was going to fix that now. His mom wouldn't have to get up so early to make him lunch, his teacher wouldn't have to bother with his mundane essays, Kacchan wouldn't have to tell him over and over what Izuku had failed to learn his entire life.

And Izuku could be at peace. He wouldn't have to deal with the humiliation and the beatings. He wouldn't have to hear them laugh anymore. And maybe, if he was lucky, he would reincarnate with a quirk that he could use to save people. A quirk he could use to be a hero.

He checked his pocket, making sure the note was there. His hands gripped the railing so tightly that his knuckles went white, and he swung his leg over, catching his footing on the edge. He paused for a moment, looking down. It was odd; he imagined he would feel more afraid. The fear was there, but it felt… subdued, he supposed. Like a gladiator that knew his fate was sealed, and had already given up on fighting. Instead, there was just a moment of clarity, all the puzzle pieces falling into place. He didn't see his life flash before his eyes, he didn't see all of his failures and regrets. In fact, knowing that these were his last moments, they felt so much more vivid, so much more _alive,_ then the rest of his life. They were moments to savor. The cold metal dug into his palms, and the smell of pollen hung in the air.

What a beautiful day. There weren't many this pretty. The sky at dusk, the blues, purples and pinks that stained the clouds and atmosphere, it was truly gorgeous. It was an odd thought to have, but he should be thankful that his last day looked like this. Maybe the world did care enough to say goodbye.

His eyes burned with unshed tears, and he held his breath in anticipation.

Thank you, mom. Thank you for believing in your stupid son.

He's sorry he couldn't be any better.

Then the door to the roof screeched open, and Izuku's head whipped around, his eyes those of a caught criminal with no chance of escape.

There, peeking out from the door with a rabid dog's smile and bright yellow eyes, was a girl in a cardigan.

"Ooh, are you gonna jump?" Her smile settled into a feverish grin, and a hot blush spread across her cheeks. "Can I watch?"

**A/N: Good evening, all, this is Imp, the writer with an unhealthy attraction to J-rock and yanderes! I'll leave it up to ya'll to decide which of the two is worse. **

**So, with that in mind, I've decided to toss my hat into the ring of BNHA fanfiction, a fandom so large it makes me wonder if the show is one of the modern classics of literature. And, just to make plenty of enemies, I'm gonna come out and say it straight out: Toga Himiko is best girl.**

**Well, kinda. Her characterization is neat, but she also has less backstory than the newscaster with one horn, that shows up every now and then, which has always disappointed me. Plenty of people seem to like her spunk, per se, but in almost every story I've read, she more of a prop or plot device than a character. **

**And with that said, I've laid out my main goal in this story: take Himiko, and make her a complete character. Take a long look at her and Izuku, what's different about them, and more importantly**_**, what's the same. **_

**So this is the start of my villain deku story, **_**Compassion, and the Lack Thereof**_**!**

**Make sure to leave comments and suggestions below!**

**[2019/6/20 - edits to sentence structure, repetition, and the word "Momma."]**


	2. Chapter 2

"Ooh, are you gonna jump?" Himiko felt a mad blush spread across her cheeks, and her eyes locked with the boy balancing on the edge. "Can I watch?'

The boy's clear green eyes were wide with fear and shock, like an emerald on the verge of shattering, and he seemed to be shaking from adrenaline. Himiko was shaking too, ever so slightly; she couldn't keep her hands still at all, twitching and fiddling with her cardigan sleeves. How could she even try and restrain herself? This was the first time she'd seen someone want to jump off a building! It was exciting!

"Wha- what?" The boy took a moment to sputter out a response, his mouth hanging open and his chest heaving. Himiko giggled. The boy was so easy to shock. What should she call him? She knew! Mr. Mossy! After all, his hair looked like a big wadded up ball of moss, blackish-green and tangled.

"I want to watch!" Himiko smiled enthusiastically, a puppy that had found an injured bird to play with. "Can I?"

Mr. Mossy stared at her in abject horror, clinging to the guardrail and seemingly unsure what to say. Looking into his eyes, she could tell the wheels in his head were spinning at a million miles an hour, but had absolutely no traction at all. He was staring at her, too! Oh, be still, faint heart.

"Don't.. Don't you want to stop me?"

"Hm? Me?" She cocked her head, and pointed at herself in a way she had seen idol girls do, before cracking a sharp, toothy smile. "Why would I want to stop you? It's so trendy nowadays!"

This did nothing to relax Mr. Mossy, who only seemed more confused. He looked at her, then over the edge, and then back at her. Himiko slammed the door shut, and half-ran, half skipped to the guardrail, skidding to a stop and closing the distance between them.

"So, tell me, tell me," She leaned over the guardrail, whispering in the energetic hush-hush manner of someone who just stumbled upon a piece of particularly juicy gossip. "Why do you wanna jump?"

Mr. Mossy leaned back, stumbling to keep his balance and keep their faces more than a few inches apart. His fingers clawed at the metal guardrail's smooth surface, hands trembling and knuckles white. They were so far up too, it made Himiko's stomach churn just by looking down. It didn't matter who they were, if someone fell from here, they'd be a grease stain once they got to the bottom. She could imagine it; a slip, a scream, cut short by a sickening wet crunch several stories below. Looking at Mr. Mossy, she could almost see it already, his limbs twisted into unnatural angles like the dolls of her childhood, bones poking out of his soft, pale skin… All it would take was a single, gentle push...

She felt hot despite the chilly dusk air, her catlike eyes looking over every part of him as she imagined him, gnarled and broken on the cement below.

"I-" His voice cracked, and his mouth snapped shut. He was silent, refusing to meet her prying eyes. "W-why would you even care?"

"It's no good when people hide that they're hurt, you know." Her head shifted to the to the side, but he averted his eyes again, too ashamed to look at her. She wanted to see Mr. Mossy's eyes, his face. They were always the best part; if she couldn't see his face, if she couldn't see what was going on behind those bashful eyes, what was the point?

His lips quivered, and she could see the nervous glances he cast towards her. A gust of wind ruffled their hair, and the sound of traffic from the other side of the city could almost fill the deafening silence.

"Someone told me to jump off a building." Mr. Mossy mumbled, a whisper on the wind that Himiko could just barely make out. "So… I took their advice."

She watched him for a few moments, cocking her head and leaning just a tad bit close. She could hear his breathing, feel his hot breath as it mingled with the chilly night air. Her smile fell apart, replaced by a disappointed scowl. He was a horrible liar. Why did all the boys with cute faces lie? They always acted like that, nervous and dishonest.

"Lying isn't cute at all." Her voice was flat and blunt, like an aluminum baseball bat. She reached out and grabbed his jaw, dragging her long sharp nails across his face, and yanked his head towards her. Mr. Mossy jerked his head back and forth, trying to shake free, but her hand was a steel vice, locking it in place.

Even in the dim light, she could easily make out his freckled face. Trembling jaw, heavy breathing, all things she had seen many times. After so many people, things like that just blended together. But the eyes, oh, those eyes. Seeing them made her feel all tingly and hot. She stared into them, licking her lips.

Every person she met had different eyes. Some were angry, narrow and rage-filled with a fire trapped behind their pupils. Others were scared, wide and watery as the person begged her to stop. They were all beautiful, because eyes were special. Himiko had heard people say they were the window into a person's soul, and she wanted to learn everything about her friends.

Mr. Mossy's eyes were the fearful type. They were large and round, almost childish. But she paused, her hungry smile briefly flickering. The terror was there. It was there, no doubt. But it was… empty. Like the sun on an overcast day. It was there, but sad and grey, hidden behind layers and layers of clouds.

She couldn't push him off like this. How could she? It would be disappointing. Himiko couldn't see his soul through the clouds in his eyes. She dragged his face closer, digging her nails into his cheeks. There was a mousy whimper, but Mr. Mossy didn't resist.

What was with him? Everyone else resisted, fighting tooth and nail to the end. But he had just given up. Her heart was telling her to just push him; it would feel good, it promised her. She would feel all nice and fuzzy, it cooed. But something deep in her gut twisted and squirmed, telling her not to. Those clouds in his eyes, they were thunderclouds. And they looked familiar.

"... Who hurt you?" Himiko's voice was soft, a feather gently blown by the breeze. She didn't really know why she was asking the question, not really. Was she expecting an answer? He had already lied to her. He was obviously afraid off her. He was just like the others.

There were a few moments when nothing happened, the boy seeming trapped in his own mind. He didn't make a sound, just shivering miserably in the cold. But Himiko watched the tears form in his eyes, the gemstones cracking. She felt the sobs rack his body, only growing in intensity, and heard the broken chokes as he struggled to force air into his lungs. Even if his mouth refused to be honest, his tears didn't have a choice. She had tugged at the string, and now the entire cloth was unraveling before her eyes. She felt like she was watching a city-flattening hurricane meet a lifeless desert. She couldn't smile about it, but it was undeniably… beautiful.

"Every-" Mr. Mossy sucked in a shaky breath, "Everyone!" Fat tears poured from his puffy, bloodshot eyes. "Why is the world so unfair? If you have a powerful quirk, you can become anything! But what can I do?" He puked the words out, each one falling out of his mouth without any restraint or filter. "Everyone else seems so special, b-but the only thing special about me is that I'm not special! That no one cares! That I shouldn't have been born!"

Himiko felt so odd not wearing a smile. It was as though her brain sent the message to her face, and her muscles had to send a message back for confirmation. They were confused; after all, she only really frowned when she was annoyed, and she most certainly wasn't now. She was ecstatic. But she was feeling something else too.

The scowl on her face felt unnatural, the way her mouth hung open with unspoken words. So did the was the way her heart squeezed. The way her breathing sped up. The way her throat tightened. It wasn't out of excitement. Her body felt hot, but it wasn't in a good way. Not in a way that made her want to cut him up.

She leaned her forehead against his, and felt his breath catch. "The world hurts, doesn't it?" Her voice was low and gentle, but not soft.

"...S-so much…"

"And your hero never saved you?"

The boy only sobbed harder, giving Himiko the answer she needed. She stared at him silently, her toxic yellow eyes cold, but sympathetic. Intelligent, but not heartless. Heroes always talked about helping people, but they were _never _there for those who needed saving. _Never_. Her grip loosened, and she let go of him, stepped away from the guardrail. She stumbled back a few steps in an almost carefree manner, but her sharp eyes never strayed from those clouded emeralds

The instant Himiko stepped back, Mr. Mossy was glued to the guardrail, clinging for dear life. Himiko held back a giggle, thinking about that phrasing. He was twitchy, glancing over his shoulder to check for any monster that might jump up at him from fourteen stories below, and just watching him, Himiko felt a slim smile crawl onto her face. He was just a tangled up ball of anxiety, who seemed to jump at every shifting shadow, but Himiko liked him. They were the same, she could feel it. She felt like she had just found an exhilarating novel, and she couldn't wait to tear it open and engorge herself on each and every last word.

"Hey," Her fingers traced the edges of the knife in her pocket, it's sheathed blade teasing her. "What's your name?"

He stared at her, far past the point of even trying to understand her. It was obvious that he wasn't able to think straight anymore; she could see it in his eyes, the way they were unable to focus on anything for more than a few brief moments.

"... M-midoriya. Midoriya Izuku."

Her grin wided, and she could feel the blush returning. "I'm Toga Himiko, great to meet ya! Do you wanna be friends?"

He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, before opening it again. "Why do you want to be friends with me?" His eyes were firmly planted on the concrete underneath Himiko's feet. He was such a cloudy person, always looking at anything but her. Was he always like this? Or was this just the real him, the one he always hid underneath thick blankets of lies? Oh, how she wanted to know!

"Do I have to have a reason? I like making friends!" She caught him by the arms, and forcefully pulled him over the guardrail. "Let's chat!"

)ooOoo(

Izuku's mind was covered by a thick haze. His throat was on fire, and his eyes felt like they had been stung by wasps. His limbs felt heavy, and the last few shards of logic in his mind that were still functioning told him it was probably because he had just spent several minutes hanging off the edge of a building. The last few of which, however, were by sheer willpower alone, as his muscles were far past the breaking point.

Not that the message was getting across; his mind's central command was in absolute chaos, flooding and on fire at the same time. Sensory command had long since stopped functioning, with the combined sensations of hanging several stories above the ground and being this close with a girl causing the entire system to overheat. The emotional maintenance team had gone AWOL, tearing apart the entire system of emotional safeguards piece by piece, which resulted in all of his feeling mixing together in a confusing mess that melted through all of the logical processing systems. And the captain hadn't been seen since that girl opened the door to the roof, having decided to jump ship before everything went to hell.

So, when the girl reached over and dragged him over the guardrail and over to the center of the roof, picking him up with only slightly more effort than that required to carry a cat, he was far past the point of questioning. He was in a state of chaotic calm, too far past the point of no return to even differentiate between the mundane and the insane. Was this what shock felt like? This was probably what shock felt like. He should write down what it felt like, for future reference. Heroes dealt with shock a lot, so he'd have to know how to handle it.

Oh wait. No he wouldn't, would he? That's why he was up here, after all. Right. For someone who spent so much time writing notes, he really was forgetful. He knew that thought should have hurt more than it did, but it felt like he no longer had the coordination to feel anything more than a dull ache in his heart and an overbearing sense of anxiety everywhere else.

He felt a set of small hands directing him to sit down on the cool concrete, and the small, flickering spotlight of clarity that was his focus reoriented itself towards the world outside his head. There was that girl. Tanaka, he thinks? Toga? Or Tahashi, maybe? Izuku hoped he was remembering correctly. It would be rude to call her the wrong name, especially after she just told him. He bit his lip, and squinted, trying to focus enough to remember, but it was useless.

She gracelessly propped him up against a large powerbox, and then plopped down in front of him, a smile on her face. A big, toothy smile. A too wide, too sharp smile that gave him the distinct feeling of being a rabbit cornered by a wolf. Izuku could feel his breathing catch as he stared at her canines, pearly daggers that seemed to demand his attention.

"So, Midoriya!" Izuku flinched at her voice, which shredded the thin silence. "What grade are you in?"

"Uh… N-ninth." What was this girl talking about? The logical part of him knew that you're supposed to call the police or something in this situation. But she just… wasn't. Izuku tore his gaze away from her teeth. "I go to Aldera Junior High." He stumbled for a moment, his brain forgetting what conversation was. The eyes. Look at the eyes. That's what you're supposed to do when talking to someone. Eyes were safe. "What, um, what about you? Your grade?"

Bad choice. Eyes were not safe. Not at all. The pupils were narrow and slit-like, while the iris were the color of sickly, rotten flesh. Rotten flesh? Why was that the first comparison to come to mind? He'd never even seen any. But he couldn't think of anything else to compare it to. His mind was blank, and, looking into those eyes, he couldn't even blink, let alone look away.

"Oh, I'm supposed to be in ninth grade too! Though I'm probably younger than you. I have a late birthday!" Her eyes never left Izuku, as though she was completely captivated. It unnerved him; he wasn't often the center of attention, but he had the feeling that even if he usually was, this girl would still terrify him. It felt like she was slicing open his skin with her gaze. "Do you have any plans for after middle school? Or was it just to take a step off the fourteenth flour?" Her giggle was far too bubble to fit her words.

"Well, uh, high school, probably…" He should lie. He didn't need to tell her. He knew she'd ask what his quirk was, and then he'd have explain he didn't have one, and then… he didn't want to get laughed at by her. Not by anyone, not right now, not ever again. It was already too much. It was only when he finished muttering the sentence he realized that his mouth was faster than his mind. "I'm, well... I'm hoping that I can get into U.A."

"Really?" She cocked her head, and pressed her lips into an intrigued grin, almost replacing the sickly blush on her face with cute curiosity. Almost. "So you want to become a hero?"

"Yeah, I guess…" He forced a weak smile, so fake that a blind man could probably tell. It quickly devolved into a hollow, self-pitying grin, though, his eyes wandering towards the ground beneath the girl's feet. The ground was always a safe place to look, he'd found, even with people like Kacchan. "... Not that it's very realistic."

"Why's that? Do you think you're a too much of a coward?"

He flinched slightly, not surprised, but still hurt. Of course she'd jump to that. She found him tying the metaphorical noose, after all, and what was more cowardly than that? His mouth scrunched into a scowl, already ashamed of the words to leave his mouth. "... I'm quirkless…" He mumbled, pointlessly hoping that she might just ignore it. Maybe, if he was lucky, she would just leave him alone. Or grin nervously, and try to sidestep the topic. Those were usually the best responses he got. But he could already hear her high pitched, off-kilter voice laughing at him in his mind.

"Why's that important?"

"W-what?" He wasn't sure if it was due to the absurdity of the statement, or that his mind was still in disrepair from his deliberate near-death experience, but it took Izuku a moment to compute what was said. His eyes shot towards her, equal parts confused and distrustful. Was she just teasing him? Or was she building up to a punchline? If she just wanted to turn him into a joke, she could just start laughing, and not have to rub it in. "Of course it's important!"

She paused for a moment, frowning, and rested her head in her hands. "But that can't be the most important part. I have a quirk, but I still can't be a hero." Izuku felt her eyes scour his body, as though looking for some hint, some clue, before returning to his face. "Do you really, _really _want to become a hero?"

"Of course!" He could hear the desperation in his voice, the silent scream of someone refusing to let go of their dream. But, along with it, he could hear the tired resignation. The side of him that was dry and cracked, the oasis that gave up in its fight against the desert heat. Of course he wanted to become a hero, just like how a fish may dream of flying. That's all it was. A dream. So why was Toga, or Tanaka, or whoever this was pretending it was even worth thinking about? He'd never have the ability, he'd never be strong enough.

"Then I don't think you need a quirk!" She gave a wide smile.

Izuku stared at her like she had three heads. Of course he needed a quirk. There had never been a hero without a quirk, and those that tried always were too weak. They just got in the way of the actual heros. His classmates and teachers had told him so. Kacchan told him so. All Might himself had told him he was better just joining the police. Even his Mom…

Even his Mom, with her reluctant little smiles, had been telling him for years it was a pointless dream. She had never wanted to say it out loud, but looking back, he had been foolish not to hear it. Everyone else had put two and two together, but he had refused to.

"How am I supposed to help anyone?." Izuku curled himself into a ball, shrinking under the blond girl's gaze. "A slime villain attacked me yesterday. He was just a robber, not even a real villain. But I couldn't beat him. I was useless. I was _less _than useless."

"Well, duh." Toga rolled her eyes, as though dealing with a particularly stupid child. Not that he'd deny being one. "You're just a teenager. Do you think heroes are born able to save people?"

"Well, no, but-" 

"So what do they do?"

"They train, obviously-"

"Have you trained at all?"

"I've studied how all the heroes fight-"

"But have you trained your body?"

Izuku opened his mouth to retort, but paused. "N-no." He chewed on his lip, and averted his eyes. He had never trained. He'd had P.E. class, sure, but actual training? He'd never even played a sport. He looked like a twig, just all skin and bones.

He could feel her watching him, and he shifted, unable to feel comfortable on the cold concrete. The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky doused in hues of blue and purple and the city awash in electric whites and yellows. The air had become chilly enough that he could see his shaky breath, and he resisted a shiver. It might be warm during the day, but it was still spring, and Izuku had never dealt with the cold well.

His eyes flickered towards the ledge he had been standing at, then towards the girl. Her hair was uneven and messy, tied into two barely controlled buns; thick layers of eyeshadow made her look like she hadn't slept in weeks, and seemingly the only part of her face that wasn't concealed by poorly applied makeup was the hot, uncomfortable blush that wrestled her smile for control of her cheeks. Everything about her screamed that he shouldn't be near her.

But…

She had pulled him away from the edge. Her smile was… _odd_, yes, he'll put it that way. But it was genuine. It wasn't cruel, it wasn't the sort that was about to laugh at him. It wasn't fake, or the nervous sort of someone who wanted to be anywhere but this conversation. It wasn't like how his teacher smiled when Izuku wrote 'U.A.' on his career plan. It wasn't like how his classmates smiled when someone made a joke about him. It wasn't like how the All Might posters smiled, a crude imitation of the real thing.

It was a smile that was actually happy to be talking to him.

He frowned, the sort that spoke of caution but not despair, and looked up at her. "But… how can I train? I only have ten months, and… and I don't even know where to start."

She looked surprised, like she had just seen a kitten roar. She made a _hmm_, and rapted her fingers against her cheeks, thinking. Her mouth twisted into a small grin, and then a sharp grimace, before returning to what Izuku could only describe as her signature smile.

"How about you train with me, then?"

**A/N: Good evenin' all. I do hope this chapter didn't take too long to write, though it was a tad difficult to crawl out of my particular slice of Hell long enough to transcribe and publish this. I do hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

**Ok, first and foremost, I wanted to give a shout out to menenc2ooo. He's been a real big help, and I can't thank 'em enough. He's called me out on a lot of things that would've looked terrible, so if you want to thank anyone for this chapter's quality, thank my beta-reader.**

** So, I'm gonna lay this out straight: Toga is one of the most difficult characters I've ever had to write dialogue for. I won't claim to be anything other than an amatur at writing dialogue, and put on top of that the fact that Toga is quite literally mentally ill, and this becomes a tricky situation. So, feel free to make comments or suggestions on her dialogue, or really, any part of my writing. It can only make me better!**

**With only the worst of intentions,**

**Imp the Nefarious**

**MedicusAestus: A fellow comrade! This is another Toga fic indeed. And, on the matter of Toga teaching Izuku the art of villainy, well… If I just tell you the plot, you don't have any reason to come back, do you?**

**Sewrtyuiop: I appreciate the vote of confidence! And, I tell ya, few things are as entertaining or interesting as seeing a "good guy" corrupt and fall from grace. I hope you enjoy the coming storm.**

**Lark: Looking back, yeah, I'd agree. A single day is a tad bit fast to decide to die. Something to keep in mind for the future, I suppose? I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations!**


	3. Chapter 3

If the street lights would stop flickering so much, Izuku would be a lot more comfortable. The sky was a looming fishbowl, with indigo and blue paint blocking out but a few icy white stars, and a thin, fingernail-trimming moon. It had been almost an hour since he stepped back from the ledge fourteen floors up, and the air had become so cold one might think it was February, not late April.

Izuku did not like the cold. It was uncomfortable, and even his winter uniform did little to keep it at bay. Even if he added a scarf and gloves, it could only help so much. Not to mention, they would be far too hot during the day. So, in the end, he would just wear his winter uniform, bring an umbrella just to be safe, and then suffer through anything he wasn't prepared for.

Izuku did not like the dark. He wasn't being childish, or a coward, but it was impossible to tell what was lurking in the shadows, villain or otherwise. His encounter with the slime villain the other day did little to comfort him. So he steered clear of any dark alleys or shady streets, taking the longer, but better lit, way home.

Izuku did not like… Well, he couldn't say that. He watched the blond girl from the corner of his eye, a mouse watching a cat prowl. He couldn't claim to not like company. He just wasn't used to it, or at least, wasn't used to company that liked him. Kacchan was his friend, but he wasn't going to pretend that the kid was always nice to be around. And while many of his other classmates weren't as… _explosive_… towards him, they made it clear they didn't enjoy being around him. So, whenever Izuku was with others, the best he could hope for was to fade into the background, and not say anything stupid in front of them.

So, Toga was an enigma. He chewed on his lip, and clutched his bag closer to his chest as she passed behind him, disappearing from his line of sight. His heart rate hadn't slowed in the slightest since she'd shown up on the rooftop, not on the walk to the station, not on the train, and not on the little, almost-well-lit side street that he was trudging down to his apartment. He was nervous, and there were a few reasons that weren't too hard to explain.

Ok, ok, take a moment. Clear your head. First on the list, he was not used to being around girls. This was an obvious one. He was just being honest. He had never really had a lot of friends in general, let alone friends who were girls, and girlfriends were out of the question. She came back into his line of sight, and he let go of a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Maybe he should dismiss this reason, though. He knew he got nervous around girls, but this… was a different _type _of nervous. And it was obvious that she was a different _type _of girl. So maybe his normal "nervous around girls" thing didn't really apply here.

Uh, second. Reason number two. Her entire aura. Just, everything about it. If she were a hero, her style would already be distinct enough. She could practically start a fashion trend if she got enough media coverage. She could possibly get a sponsorship deal if… Wait, wait, she's not a hero. But, either way, he felt like he was dealing with someone from an entirely different world. A coyote dealing with a circling vulture, perhaps. It could mean a meal, or it could mean he's the next to die.

But perhaps most unnerving was the way she moved. He furrowed his eyebrows, and scowled, his legs operating on muscle memory alone. She wasn't walking with him; she was dancing around him, watching him as though to memorize every possible angle of his scrawny frame. She balanced and spun on her heels, almost looking childish with her giddy smile, hands held behind her as she circled him. She was a ball of energy, a cluster of hot movement in the cold, still night. It made Izuku's skin crawl. Perhaps the oddest part was how smoothly she shifted her weight, how comfortably. As though this was completely normal. Was this normal behaviour for her? He hadn't seen her interact with other people before, so he couldn't know, but it had to make some people uncomfortable. It most certainly unnerved him, at least. How casual she was about it made it seem like an ingrained habit, and how easily she flowed almost confirmed it wasn't a conscious action. May it have to do with her quirk? She mentioned having one earlier, though it had no usage for being a hero. Perhaps it had to do with her memory of how other people look or act? That could be countless things, though-

His thoughts were cut off by a bubbly giggle, and his eyes snapped towards Toga. Her toxic yellow eyes lingered on him, amused, and Izuku shivered from something other than the cold.

"Uh, W-" His voice sputtered, his scowl easily revealing his confusion. "What is it?"

Toga smiled, and turned on her heel, breaking her cyclical motions to walk in front of him. "Did you know that you mutter under your breath?"

"I mutter under my-?" And then the realization hit him. All of the blood drained from his face, and Toga's grin only got wider. "What did you hear?"

"A lot!"

Was it possible for all of a person's blood to travel to their face at once? Izuku was certain the answer was yes. "But, uh, well, I, um… S-sorry."

Toga laughed again, a stilted but lively little sound, and Izuku swallowed what he could of his embarrassment. It was like trying to drink the Pacific Ocean dry.

"You don't need to apologize." Toga's blush seemed to glow under the harsh glare of the electric streetlights. "It's cute! Like hearing a kitty mew!"

If his embarrassment had been the Pacific Ocean before, global warming had just started, and sea level were rising. Oh god, heart, please slow down. Please. He couldn't take anymore stress after today, he had barely recovered from earlier on the train.

"Oh, by the way!" Toga seemed to close the gap between them in the brief moment that Izuku was doing damage control in his head. "Do you have a phone?"

"Huh? Yeah, I have one."

"Great! Want to share numbers?"

Izuku just stared at her for a moment, mildly bewildered. He hadn't exchanged contact info on his phone in so long, he wasn't even sure he remembered how. Actually he only had two contacts on his phone, his mom's, and Mrs. Bakugo's in case of an emergency. Kacchan hadn't wanted to, and no one else in his class was really friends with him, so…

Wait, exchanging contact info was something you did with friends, right? And since Toga was the one asking…

Izuku felt a wide, if reluctant, smile spread across his face. "S-so… You wanna be friends?"

Toga watched the smile spread across his face, and hers did as well, in a warm, yet cat-like manner. "I asked you earlier, didn't I?"

Izuku felt like jumping for joy. Well, not really jumping. He didn't feel like jumping for anything after tonight. But his enthusiasm was radiating from him like rays of golden, hope-filled sunlight. "Of course we can exchange!"

Toga threw her hands up and let out an excited, girly cheer. She quickly reached into her pocket, and pulled out a smartphone in a bright pink case, covered in metallic silver sparkles.

Izuku nervously reached into his breast pocket, his hands shaking. He'd never had a friend's number before! How were you supposed to talk with friends? He'd imagine you were supposed to text them regularly, but how much was too much? And how much was too little? He didn't want to come off as creepy. He finally had a friend other than Kacchan, after all! He pulled his own phone out, protected by a bulky black case that could be described as little more than bland and utilitarian. Ok, and now open contacts-

A folded up piece of paper slipped out of his pocket, and gracelessly dropped to the ground, like a torn feather.

"Ah, no!" He desperately snatched at the sheet, but it effortlessly slipped through his fingers. It never reached the ground.

With inhuman speed, the feline girl in front of him swiped it out of the air, as though catching some particularly valuable prey.

"Ooh, ooh, what's this?" Toga eagerly tore the note open, almost salivating at the secrets it might hold. Oh, no no no, please no!

"T-Toga, please give it back!" Izuku reached a hand out to grab the looseleaf, but stopped just short of actually snagging it. "Please don't read it!"

Toga giggled, and easily jumped clear of the green-haired boy. "Why? What's so special about it?" She grinned wolfishly, her eyes quickly traversing the page.

A page marred by red ink. A page filled to the brim with messy, uncontrolled words, written by a sloppy hand and a heartbroken soul.

Toga's smile drooped, before disappearing entirely, as though it had been traced in the sand, and the beach had just been assaulted by a cold and icy tsunami. He saw her lynx eyes go wide, and then watched the light in them die a little. A flurry of emotions passed through her face, far too quickly for Izuku to process. What was that pained expression? Was that a sad smile? Mere frames in a movie passing at double speed.

The silence was deafening. A train could be heard in the distance, traveling alone through the crisp night. Traffic could be heard, close enough to be recognizable, but too far away to be distinct. The street was empty, other than the two teens and the street signs that chose to watch. The world was unsettlingly still as Toga peaked over the note, and peered into Izuku's soul. She was blushing.

"Can-" Izuku's voice caught in his throat, afraid to disrupt the silence, despite the urging of the boy. "Can I have it back? I… I want to…"

What would he do with it? He didn't really know. He had practically forgotten about it. Simply throwing it in a garbage bin would seem… unceremonious? He wasn't sure if that was the right word, but it fit the best. But then, would he keep it? That thought on it's own made his stomach tighten and flip. Really, he just… didn't want anyone to see it. Not that he could prevent that now.

She frowned, in a soft, quiet way. Everything about her was always so _loud_. Her voice, her arm movements, even her smiles and silent stares were always shouting as loud as they could. But this frown wasn't. And neither was the way she averted her eyes. It seemed wrong. He hadn't even known her for half a day, but it felt wrong seeing this sort of… _unuttered vulnerability. _He chewed the inside of his cheek. Focus on breathing. Don't look her in the eye. Just breath.

"No." She stated simply. Her voice was low, but it wasn't nervous. Not bashful, nor unsure, nor aggressive. It carried no unspoken threat. It was a simple statement of fact, as she refolded the sheet and tucked it into her cardigan with the care of a family treasure.

"B-but, uh, I-"

"No."

"Ah… O-ok."

The two walked in silence down the poorly lit street, Izuku plodding away in front, and Toga tiptoeing behind him. She didn't dance around him. He couldn't feel her playful, if disconcerting smile. The air was heavy and oppressive, an invisible giant leering down on them. And Izuku couldn't think of anything other than how awful it felt.

Think of something. _Anything_. How do you start a conversation? You have to talk about something you have in common. Right. What do they have in common?

Izuku ran around his mind, haphazardly rifling through all of the information he had gathered. Glance at one idea, just to toss it aside in search of another. What did she like talking about? He had to know something!

Anything..?

… Nothing. He honestly knew nothing about her. It shouldn't of been surprising, he hadn't even known her for a day. But, crushed by the overbearing silence, seared by the way her eyes were burning into him, he felt useless. He scrunched his mouth into a remorseful frown, and cast his eyes down. What was he supposed to say?

They continued to walk in silence, down the same, poorly lit street.

"Izuku!" His head shot up, and only then did Izuku realize they two of them had almost reached his apartment building; the gate to the community was only a few paces away.

And, in front of the gate, there was a round little puffball of a woman, or rather, a ball of nervous energy. She was scuttling towards him as fast as she could in her little high heels, her eyes wide with worry and brimming with unshed tears.

"Oh, Izuku, thank god!" As soon as she reached him, she embraced him, delivering a bruising bear hug with her deceptively puggy arms. "I was so worried! When it started getting dark, and you never showed up for dinner, I was afraid you might of been hurt! I thought you might've been attacked by a villain, this town has gotten more dangerous in these past few years, and you know what happened to your friend Katsuki yester-"

"I, uh, I'm ok, Mom! Calm down!" He returned the hug, wanting to calm her down before the metaphorical glass cracked and she started crying in the street. She was so quick to cry, but he couldn't really blame her for it. After all, he was too, as much as he might want to deny it. He smiled weakly, and struggled out of her lung-crushing hug. "I didn't run into any villains, so don't worry."

"What were doing out so late, Izuku? It's not like you…" She wiped the tears from her eyes, the salty water sinking into her peachy pink polyester sweater. "It's almost nine…"

"I was just…" He paused, unsure of what to say. Clasping her shoulder, and looking into her dark evergreen eyes, could he tell her the truth? His gut twisted, already knowing exactly how she would react. But… could he really lie? His stomach tightened, and his mouth tasted of sick bile, as though to punish him for such a terrible idea. She was his mother! He bit his tongue, and forced a smiling mask onto his face.

"I was just studying with my friend!" That was an awful lie. Stupid, stupid, stupid! He couldn't lie at all. He was way too enthusiastic, and he knew he blushed bright pink whenever he lied. He could already feel his face heating up, as though it alone had just been dunked into a hot spring.

His mom crinkled her thin eyebrows in concern and confusion. Izuku could tell that she was trying to figure out why he was lying to her. Neither of them could hide what they were thinking at all.

"What… What friend were you studying with?"

Panic mode, full throttle! He didn't know what to say! He hadn't thought this far ahead! No no no no no!

"Me!" Izuku felt a set of lithe hands grab his shoulders, and Toga's face seemed to miraculously appear beside his. Oh, heart, please for the love of all things heroic slow down! He was tempting cardiac arrest now! "Are you Izu-kun's mom?"

Mom seemed just as surprised as Izuku, if not more so, her eyes going as wide as saucers at the sudden arrival of the blushing blond. "Uh, yes, I am. And you are?"

Toga smiled back, her canines glaring in the yellow light, and casually fell backwards off the teenage boy. "I'm Toga Himiko, but you can call me Toga-chan!"

Izuku watched in nail-biting terror as the two looked each other over. He could practically tell what his mom was thinking as her eyes wandered over the girl's petite frame. Her soft scowl and slightly furrowed eyebrows screamed of harsh judgement, particularly when her gaze fell upon the disheveled school uniform and thick layers of messy makeup.

But Toga, on the other hand… She looked scary, but in a different way. She looked the same _physically,_ but something felt different. No, _everything_ felt different. What changed about her tone..?

It suddenly clicked, and he gasped slightly at the realization, before clamping his mouth shut. Toga's gaze flicked towards him, but only for a brief instant, before returning to his mom.

Her body language. The way she held herself, her expressions, they were all different. Slightly, but enough that it threw him off. Her back was straight as a board, and her hands were held in front of her waist in a polite, but not quite formal, way. Her smile was energetic, but like a peppy high school girl instead of a hungry lynx.

Her entire atmosphere had changed on the drop of a pen.

"Mrs. Midoriya, it's great to meet you!" Toga gave a wide smile, but kept her mouth firmly shut. Is she hiding her teeth? That would make sense, considering how Izuku himself reacted when he saw them. He felt his skin crawl at how naturally she changed personas. "I'm super sorry he got home so late! He was helping me with something I didn't really understand, but he's really good at explaining!"

His mom seemed completely taken aback by Toga's friendly tone, but she smiled weakly. "Ah, well, I'm glad he was helpful. When he knows about something, he _really _knows about it, and will be more than willing to talk your ear off."

Toga giggled, and Izuku turned as red as a salmon egg, and about as coherent as one.

"Ah, mom, please-"

"Don't worry, I find his tangents cute!" Toga balanced on one leg, and then the other, as though playing a game with herself. She spun towards Izuku, and smiled at him in her more usual, cat-like way, leaning in. "It was great to see you today, Izu-kun. I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. Of course!" He sputtered to respond, hypnotized by those toxic eyes. They locked stares for a moment, Toga's grin growing wider, and Izuku's fidgets growing more noticeable, until the boy broke the silent exchange and snapped his head towards the direction of the metro station.

"Well, y-you best be going! It's getting late!" He sounded like a viola string tightened far too much, and then strummed with razor wire.

Toga held her hands behind her back, and leaned away. "Ah, yeah, it is! Nighty, Izu-kun!" She gave a quick wave, and broke into a jog, turning a corner and melting into the shadows.

"... Izuku…" The green haired teen heard his mother's low voice, and his heart turned to stone. He had no doubt that she didn't like Toga. It was obvious. But she was his friend! Ok, ok, reasons. What are good excuses for her style of dress and behaviour? Come on, think!

He felt himself turning towards his mother, far too fast for him to think everything through. Answers, answers, answers, now! Use that brain of yours, Izuk-

His swirling thoughts ground to a jarring halt the moment the saw his mom's teary-eyed face. She burst into tears, fat drops streaming down her round face.

"Mom, are you okay?!"

"I'm just so happy! You've met such a nice girl!"

"W-what? Calm down!"

"I never expected you to be with a girl like her, I'll be honest, but-" She sniffled, trying to regain control of her emotions. "But if she makes you happy, then that's enough! I'll support you as much as I can!"

"N-no! That's not what our relationship is at all!"

"You don't have to pretend, Izuku! I support the two of you completely!"

Dinner was a very awkward affair that night.

)ooOoo(

The Augur groaned, and pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing in circular motions that, if he were lucky, may relieve his stress.

Not that it had ever worked before. Very few things could do that, and of those, only three were reasonable methods. Sadly, one method caused alcohol induced liver damage, another was technically illegal, and the third was out of the question, because he had already used all of his vacation days for the year.

He groaned in weary acceptance, and reached for his coffee. Just got back in town, hoping for an easy case after that mess with the drug smuggling ring, but no. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised. If it were an easy case, his team wouldn't be needed.

"Ok, ok," He spread the documents out across his hardwood desk, and glared murderously at the stark white papers. "Let's see what we got here."

The paperwork was a fucking mess. The case had been covered by fourteen different cities' police departments, plus three separate prefecture-wide investigative bureaus. All of them formated their paperwork differently. None of it was organized. Hell, some of it had been so poorly handled by the investigators on the ground it was either useless in a court of law, or just outright useless and devoid of meaningful information. And when the prefecture departments came together and compiled it, they didn't even organize it; they just stapled their three reports together, and mailed it to him. None of them had the resources to organize a nation-wide investigation, so they just passed it up the line, until it got to the national agency.

And so here he was, looking at one of the messiest, _emptiest_ reports he had ever seen. There was practically no info, no suspects, and no leads whatsoever. The only reason they even thought it might be the same killer was because the circumstance of murder was almost always the same.

Victims were always young, the youngest being eighteen and the oldest being twenty five. They usually were men, but four of the nineteen were women. Found in deserted areas of town, usually slum alleyways or industrial districts, they had all bled to death, with all of them having a deep gash through the artery in their neck. Alongside this, all of them show signs of bruising and large amounts of smaller, non-lethal cuts all over their bodies, particularly on their arms and chest. The forensics quality and depth varied between the agencies, but the general consensus was that injuries were dealt by a small, hand-held blade, probably a pocket knife or hunter's knife of some sort.

The Augur snorted, and grimaced. None of this was extremely helpful. How many knives did these people think were in Japan? A dozen? No, there were literally tens of thousands in Osaka alone, where the first murder took place. He sighed, and took a long sip of caffeine, hoping to dispel the bags from under his eyes. Could he really blame them? Ever since heroes entered the investigative scene, forensics departments and investigative agencies all over the country had become chronically underfunded, with all of that money being redirected towards the new kids on the block. Of course, some heroes did a damn good job at it; he'd worked with a few before, and they weren't something to sneeze at. But that didn't change the fact that government investigative agencies were becoming more and more pointless, just a formality to maintain the appearance of public accountability. Just like the police.

The Augur collapsed into his chair, and glanced up at the clock on the wall. 9:37 P.M. God, he hated late nights. But that's what he had signed up for, wasn't it? And compared to the crap heroes went through, basically being on call twenty-four-seven, he supposed he shouldn't complain.

… Heroes, huh? They had changed a lot since he was a kid. In no small part because of Toshinori, he supposed. That guy had been in the hero biz for almost thirty years, and was still running around like a madman, doing what needed to be done. No doubt anyone else would've gone insane by this point. Himself included, considering his dependence on coffee and the occasional round with a punching bag. He chuckled, a weak smile lighting up his dark, weary demeanor.

He wondered how Toshinori was doing. Augur hadn't heard from him in a few weeks, and hadn't seen him in almost three months, after that whole fiasco with the prison breakout attempt in Aomori City. And even then, it had just been a brief stop in a coffee shop. Toshinori was a busy guy, after all. He had mentioned something about transferring over to Musutafu in their last chat, if Augur was correct.

Speaking of Musutafu…

He brushed aside a few of the papers on his desk, dragging the most recent report to the surface. Hashimoto, Rin. Twenty. Son of Ichigo and Chizuko Hashimoto. Murdered a week a ago in southwest Musutafu, reported after not returning home from his college baseball practice. Found in an abandoned warehouse, on the opposite side of town from where he lived.

The Augur groaned, the sound of an old machine in dire need of a good oiling.

It was said that there was no rest for the wicked.

He supposed that also meant there was no rest for those who investigated the wicked, either.

**A/N: Good evening, all. This chapter came a lot faster than even I expected, mostly because I had a hell of a cold for the past three days, and wasn't able to leave my apartment. So… I had some free time. But more of this for you guys, I suppose! No major info or updates here, sorry. But I'm super happy at you guys' positive reaction! I'm a novice writer at best, so to see this much positivity and supportive energy in this community restores a tad bit of my faith in humanity. Thank you! **

**Also, something about the Augur, my little detective buddy: While he is an OC, he is not actually my character. He was created by, and belongs to, menenc2ooo, my wonderful beta! He is actually in the process of writing his own fanfic about the Augur and his life, so when he posts it, I'll make sure to tell you guys. **

**With only the worst of intentions,**

**Imp the Nefarious**

** : Ok, before I say anything else, I love your username. You wouldn't believe how I felt when I got an email saying " has subscribed to your story." It was a trip. Anyway, I'm not sure how its coming across, but my goal it to write less in a way where I'm narrating, and moreso that I'm simply translating their stream of conscious into the written word. It has led to some lines feeling like I'm just Izuku's internal monologue incarnate. Feels weird.**

**ChildishGuestino: Yeah, man, I get that complaint, I'm workin' on it, okay? Okay. *proceeds to continue angrily type* But, thank you so much! One of the best thing an author can hear is that you enjoyed their writing. And, onto the matter of Toga's impact on Izuku, just remember the story synopsis. Remember the cycle.**

**Lark: This might be my story, but I feel it's my responsibility as an author to listen to what my readers say. I won't always adopt it, but I'll always listen. So feel free to toss your thoughts my direction! And, on the matter of Toga throwing Izuku off of random buildings, I don't think that would be the most entertaining. She'd almost certainly climax at the sight and feeling, but that would cut this story off a tad bit short, not to mention leave a hell of a stain… *chuckle***


	4. Chapter 4

A new notebook.

Two hundred blank, lined pages.

A new life, with two hundred opportunities to improve.

His pencil tapped on the first page, the sheet completely empty short of the title. _Training goals._

Izuku knew that he wasn't a lot of things; he wasn't particularly fast, nor strong, nor flexible. He couldn't lift massive amounts of weight, nor hit things from a distance. He had no idea how to restrain an opponent, or rescue a civilian.

He didn't just lack a quirk; he lacked almost all of the characteristics needed for a hero. His heart sunk, thinking about it. For years, he had been working under the assumption that, so long as he understood heroes, he could become one. That was wrong. _He_ was wrong. A person could study artists their entire life, but that didn't mean they could paint. The only way to do that was to study and practice art itself.

But that's why he needed a plan. He had ten months. Ten months to become hero material. Or, at least, heroic enough to get into U.A. And that meant he didn't have a day to waste.

He'll be competing with people who have powerful quirks. People who have been training and perfecting them since childhood. People who see these ten months as the final stretch of training, not the start of it. He clenched his jaw, and held back a whimper.

It was… terrifying. Just thinking about it made his nerves tingle, a bundle of electric circuits pushed far past their maximum voltage. He bit his lip, and stared weakly at the paper, as though the answer would reveal itself out of sympathy for the boy.

No, he couldn't wait for the answer. His stare shifted into a glare, and he shuffled in his seat. He had a ten month time span to become strong enough not just to compete, but to win. And he didn't have the advantage of a quirk.

He clenched his pen, and attempted to focus. He was afraid. He wasn't sure he could do it. No, actually, he was pretty sure he _couldn't_. But he couldn't let that hold him back.

Ok, so what could he do without a quirk? What tools did he have at his disposal? What could he reasonably improve?

Endurance. Even if he wasn't the fastest person there, and there wasn't a doubt in his mind that he wouldn't be, he should be able to improve his endurance significantly if he started training now. A jogging schedule made the most sense. But how far, and at what speed? At what rate should increase the distance? Alternatively, he could add a time limit to force his to speed up, but that was just an idea. He would have to look online for reference; he'd never checked before, but there was bound to be plenty of resources.

His thoughts practically spilled out of his hand as he hunched over the notebook, the pencil moving in jerky, practiced movements as he recorded dozens of ideas and dozens more questions. The words splattered across the paper without any restraint, a tsunami of graphite, but despite the chaos, it was all perfectly organized. Bullet points, symbols, shorthand and haphazardly scribbled diagrams, creating a language and message only Izuku himself could decipher.

Strength training? Where, how, how much? What muscle groups? What about a workout schedule? Muscles took time to recover, and an injury would completely devastated any semblance of a chance he had of getting into U.A. And what about his diet? That was half the battle, he'd heard. He'd at the very least, have to increase his caloric input, probably proteins in particular, as well as-

"Midoriya?"

"Y-y-yes sir?" Izuku shot out of his chair at the sound of his teacher's bemused voice, standing as straight and stiff as a piece of brittle drywood. "What is it sir?"

"You're doing that thing again." His teacher had a soft, if obviously forced, smile, halfway through writing a sentence on the blackboard. "With the muttering."

Izuku simply stood there, still as a statue. His face felt like an overripe cherry, bright red and about to pop. What… What was he supposed to say? He couldn't just sit down without responding! The room was a vacuum of sound, no one daring to make the first peep.

And then one girl giggled. The entire class exploded with laughter, even the teacher giving a few uncomfortable chuckles.

"I'm, uh… I'm sorry, sir." Izuku felt like he was doing brain surgery with his tongue, his face blushing so much it hurt. He silently sat down, and tried to disappear into the folds of his coal-colored uniform. The class was, for the most part, settling down, satisfied with the clown's daily performance, though there was one boy who let loose a distinct sneer.

"God," Kacchan growled, glaring at the green-haired boy. "What the hell are you even babbling about? It better not be some shit about heroes."

Izuku set his head down on the desk, hiding behind his arms and trying his hardest to spontaneously develop an invisibility quirk. His mouth was sealed shut, as to prevent a flood of nonsense from falling out, and his eyes actively avoided looking at anything other than the one tile near his desk with a gray stain on it.

Izuku could feel Kacchan's eyes linger. He didn't need to see them to know. His gaze was hot and painful, a set of smoldering coals held against his skin. Just don't look. Just don't look.

The stronger boy grunted, a blunt, crude sound. "Of course you were. Fuckin' Deku."

Izuku grit his teeth. Don't look. Just don't. It won't end well.

"How hard is it for you to understand you don't even have a chance?"

He didn't have a chance? He grit his teeth, but kept his eyes firmly on the ground. What did Kacchan know? What did Kacchan know about being a hero? He sure as hell didn't act like one. He wanted to scream. He want to just tell him to shut up. To stop being like this, and to take him seriously. But-

But he couldn't.

His heart screamed to fight back, but his mind squashed any movement to, leaving him to squeeze his eyes shut and drown in his own self loathing.

"Ok, class, everybody calm down. As I was saying, when doing this equation…"

The teacher's continued to drone on, but Izuku was barely present. He couldn't hear anything through his mind's quiet, apathetic mumbling.

How could he get into U.A.? He couldn't even stand up to Kacchan, for god's sake. He'd probably piss his pants if he faced a villain. He wasn't brave enough to be a hero.

And besides, was Kacchan wrong? No, he wasn't. It hurt to admit, but Izuku knew Kacchan wasn't wrong. After all, All Might had said the same thing.

_It's not bad to dream, but you have to face reality, young man._

Face reality? What did that mean? He had to be realistic with his goals? He had to realize how hard it was being a hero? He had to recognize his limits?

No.

It had a really simple meaning.

All Might should've just said 'give up,' like everyone else. It's easier to cope with bluntness. It's easier when everyone give the same message, with no room for stupid fantasies or pointless dreams.

_Give up_, Kacchan said, a cruel grimace on his face.

_Give up_, his mom said, hiding behind her quiet smile.

_Give up_, All Might said, his normally shining smile replaced by a skeletal grimace.

Why was he trying? There wasn't a point. No one believed in him.

... Well, one person did. She seemed to, at least. She said as much. And she didn't seem like the type to lie. That's what was so unnerving about her.

Of all of the things about her, her hair, her makeup, her teeth, the one thing that stood out most in Izuku's mind was, oddly enough, her eyes. They were hardly her most distinctive feature, at least statistically speaking; The guy sitting to Izuku's left had yellow eyes too, and apparently there was a girl in class 3-2 with slit pupils. But, when he tried to remember her face, the eyes were always the most clear. Fenced in on both sides by her messy hair, they were the color of burning leaves in autumn, the fresh yet crunchy sort that had just drifted down from their perch in the tree canopy.

They seemed alive, boundless energy and excitement contained within glass marble. He felt jealous, almost. Not angry, or truly envious, but jealous in the wistful way. Jealous in the sad way.

What was the world like from her eyes?

Was reality worth being that happy about?

Why did her eyes sparkle in the dark?

Why was she so lively, and, at the same time, why did she become so cold last night after seeing the note?

He…

He wanted to know. He really did.

Izuku felt a blush coming on. But this one didn't feel quite so bad.

)ooOoo(

"Thank you for your cooperation, and I'm sorry for your loss." The Augur bowed slightly, and closed the door behind him. He paused just as it clicked behind him, and sighed. It was a tired, but heartfelt sound. The sound of someone who had done this far too many times.

He could hear sobbing through the door, and his heart ached. He'd never had a kid, but he'd had family. He knew that pain, and it killed him a little bit inside every time he saw it in someone else.

He shook his head, hoping to shake himself loose from his sinking thoughts, and began down the stairs with a new energy. He couldn't bring their son back, but he could find his killer. That might give the family some closure, at least.

It had been a dead end. He wasn't surprised, but it was still annoying. Considering that this was a string of murders that stretched from Osaka to here, it was unlikely it was someone they knew. None of the victims seemed to have known each other, or have any other relationship to each other. It was as though they had simply picked at random off the street. But, he had to make sure. The Augur was known in his department for many things, but being sloppy was not one of them.

He made his way down the stairs, quickly exiting the apartment complex through the main entrance. It was a sunny day, a few clouds dotting the sky, and the noon sun beat down on him mercilessly. Lord, it had been a long time since he had been in Musutafu. Lots of suburbs, good schools, low crime rate. The hero agencies were top notch, and violent crime was basically unheard of. Great place to raise a family.

That would explain why his team rarely ended up here.

He swung open the passenger's door to a bulky white minivan, and dropped himself into the seat. "Kid, I'm back."

"Hey Aug. Anything worth writing to H.Q. about?" A woman in her late twenties, with stringy raven hair tied into loose ponytail and a disheveled white button-down, sat in the driver's seat, hunched over the steering wheel. She didn't even glance at him as he entered the call, turning the key and starting the car with a subdued _thrrrm_.

"No." The Augur buckled his seatbelt, and leaned back against the seat, resting his eyes. "Just a set of parents mourning the death of their child. You've seen it all before."

The woman chuckled in the dry, not-really-funny way, and began following the map on the car dashboard. "You get colder with every case, you know that?"

"I don't get colder." He rubbed his temples, and reached for his coffee, only to realize it wasn't there. He held back a frustrated grunt. "I just stop getting so worked up."

She rolled her eyes, and smiled sourly. "That's what 'cold' means."

"... Then I suppose I am getting colder."

They sat in a comfortable silence, the sort that only came about between two people when they'd been together for so long that they don't feel the need to fill the air with empty words. The Augur appreciated it, really. He just wanted a few minutes to think.

Of course he was getting colder. He knew he was. But it wasn't because he didn't feel anything.

He was, deep down, a very emotional person. He knew it, and wasn't ashamed of it. But he also was awful at communicating. Always too blunt, too direct. And so he couldn't show those emotions to others, because he knew that, if he were to start, it would all come pouring out of him like an overflowing dam in deep disrepair. And that would get in the way of his work. So, was he cold? Yes, he was, because he had to be.

After all, who could watch a father break down in tears, crumbling under the weight of his own sobs, and not want to comfort him? Or watch a mother sit in complete silence, her hands in her lap and a hollow look in her eyes. A shattered look. He knew that look. He'd _had_ that look.

Every time he saw it, it felt like his soul was being torn apart. It felt like a golden-hot firebrand was being plunged into his heart, and there was nothing he could do about it. After all, he wasn't a hero. He was just the clean up crew. He wasn't there to save people, he was there to catch those whose victims were already too far gone.

"We're here." The car pulled into a nearly empty parking lot, the woman easily navigating into a parking space.

The Augur pried his eyes open, and forced himself to get out of the car. He hadn't gotten enough sleep last night, and he was feeling it. Then again, when did he _ever _get enough sleep?

He had wanted to get in a late night practice at the boxing gym, and had accidentally stayed until the early morning. He wasn't sure if it was the lack of sleep or the hours he spent boxing, but every part of his body felt slow and heavy, the physical incarnation of lethargy. He groaned, his joints feeling like rusty hinges.

"Come on, Aug, you sound like an old man!" The woman teased, an energetic smile on her face as she brushed off her dress pants and rolled up her sleeves. "We got a murder to solve."

He stretched his back, and walked to join her near the entrance to the dull gray building, quirking an eyebrow. "And you call me cold? You're the one joking about it."

She grinned impishly, her eyes glowing with cynical laughter, and pushed the glass double doors open. "It's all about energy, Aug. you're always so sad and moppy, ya know? I, on the other hand, have a spring in my step."

The Augur shrugged, and nodded, revealing a yielding smile. "I suppose that's true. Well then, I hope you're this energetic when they pull out the body. I think I'm going to take a break from looking at the dead today."

"Yeah, no." She chuckled. "Dead bodies are your thing. You're the autopsy guy. I'll handle everything else."

"Heh, you're just squeamish."

"No, you're just more used to dead people than living ones."

"Uh, can I help you?" Their banter was interrupted by a young man behind a desk, shuffling through papers and tapping away at a computer that looked at least a decade older than him.

"Ah, yes," The Augur's partner stepped forward, a much more _friendly _smile than before plastered onto her face. "My name is Sasaki Tsuruko, and this is The Augur. We're here from the Criminal Affairs Bureau to view a body related to a recent case."

"Oh, of course." The man nodded, and threw open one of the many filing cabinets in his small deskspace, rifling through it and pulling out several sheets of necessary paperwork. "I'll need to see your I.D.'s, and you'll have to fill out these."

The two investigators complied, showing the secretary their identification and filling out the paperwork as quickly as possible. The Augur was not going to pretend to like paperwork; it took up his time, and was generally tedious. But, he didn't despise it either. It did not _waste _his time, after all; it was all important information that kept him and his team accountable. And if they weren't accountable, then none of the work he did mattered. Justice required an even hand, after all, and that's what the paperwork was there to make sure of.

Though, he did wish the pen he had been given worked. They never seemed to, and he had no idea why. He swore under his breath as he shook the pen, trying to get the ink to the nib.

Tsuruko reached for the Augur's finished papers, but he waved her off, taking her's and placing it with his own instead. "I'll take care of this. You can go start looking over the victim's personal belongings."

Tsuruko paused, giving him a surprised look, but then nodded, an understanding smile on her face. "Sure." She gathered her things, and followed the secretary to the elevator, disappearing into the metal box after a moment.

He stood in front of the desk for a few minutes, simply gathering his thoughts. Normally, he wouldn't hesitate to look at a dead body. He'd been an investigator for years, after all. Few things would phase him, especially considering all of the cases he'd worked on. Whatever bodily mutilation had happened to the victim, _the boy_, it was unlikely to shock him.

No, bodies didn't scare him. But people did. And right now, in his mind, that boy was still a person. The Augur might call him 'the victim' or 'the body,' but deep down, it was still Hashimoto Rin.

A few hours ago, he had been in the boy's house. He had met the boy's parents. He had seen the boy's baseball trophies, and the pile of incomplete homework on his desk. He saw the mangas the boy had read, stacked in his bookshelf, and the pictures from around the house of the boy's life.

Of Rin's life.

Seeing a person cry hurt. Seeing the Hashimoto's pain and despair teared at his heart. But that would never be able to compare to seeing a person's life, _all of the intimate and human details, _just in time to slice open their cadaver on a cold metal table.

He sighed, for seemingly the millionth time that day, and set the papers on the desk, before taking the stairs to the fourth floor. He just had to do it. It wasn't any more complicated than that.

The stairs didn't take long, or, at least, they didn't seem to. He wasn't counting the minutes, to be honest. But when he finally reached his destination and exited the staircase, Tsuruko and the secretary were waiting for him outside the cold chamber.

"Ah, you finally got here, old man." Tsuruko waved him over. "I was worried you died on the way up. That would be a problem, because then I'd actually get stuck on body duty!" She laughed far too loudly for someone in a morgue, and the secretary fidgeted at the boisterous woman's mannerisms, but the Augur couldn't resist a small smile.

"Nope, you're lucky today. I still got a few more days, at least."

"Ooh, never took you for a gambling man!"

"It's just an educated guess." The Augur shrugged, and pulled off his black leather gloves, replacing them with a pair of rubber medical gloves. "Did you gather up the victim's belongings?"

Tsuruko took to the change in topic seamlessly. "Yeah, I gave them an initial look over, but they're packed and ready to go to the lab. Nothing out of the ordinary. Now we just gotta take a look at the body."

The Augur nodded curtly, and nonchalantly glanced towards the secretary. "What coldbox is the body in?"

The man quickly looked over a spreadsheet in his hand, and pointed to one of the small rectangular doors on the wall. "Hashimoto Rin, number twenty-three."

"Thank you." The Augur opened the small door, revealing a set of feet sticking out from under an aquamarine medical cloth. "We'll return him to the box when we're finished, and inform you when we leave."

"Of course. Good luck with your investigation." The secretary nodded, and left the cold chamber, leaving the two investigators to their business.

Tsuruko rolled a cart over to the coldbox, and the two of them slid the body tray onto the cart, before pushing it over to one of the tables. Cold chambers were odd, because they were simultaneously one of the most and least comfortable areas for the Augur. The room was chilly enough to make it uncomfortable for most, but not so much as to make the Augur's breath visible. Hard ceramic tiles were painted a soft blue, with the exception of the occasional brown or black stain. The natural order was stillness, and any movement or sound was a heretical disruption. It was empty. Devoid of life. The Augur liked it like that.

But the vacuum of life had its drawbacks, mostly that it was filled with the dead. As relaxing as it was to be alone and in silence, being with a dead body was still being with a dead body, and the Augur couldn't imaging many people growing used to it. Sadly, he was one of them.

They placed the body tray on the table, and Tsuruko went to fetch a set of tools. Scalpel, magnifying glass, things of the like. The Augur removed the cloth from the boy's body, carefully folding it and setting it to the side. He reached to remove his rubber gloves, but paused, uncertainty creeping into the back of his mind. As an investigator, he shouldn't hesitate. But as a person… he felt he couldn't do it.

The body looked as expected; a young man almost identical to the one he saw in the pictures. Lean muscles, strong shoulders, dark hair. A face that looked wrong without a smile. The Augur's heart ached, sinking like a stone in a pool of inky black water.

Look past who he was. Don't write his eulogy. He's just a victim.

He's just a piece of evidence.

He removed the medical glove, and pressed his fingers against the boy's cheek. It was cold, and stiff, more like a frozen steak than a human face. It was a texture he was far past the point of even acknowledging.

"_I'm just asking for a friend!" A voice, high pitched and off balance, burned his ears. "Why do you look so afraid?"_

_Everything was blurry. He could see a human, but he couldn't make out any features. His heart was pounding, and his limbs burned. His chest felt like a giant was pressing it with its massive hands, making it impossible to breath deep breaths, and every square centimeter of him felt like it had been carefully traced over with a dozen razors._

_So much pain. So much. Why was he here? He had been coming back from practice when… Oh god, his head hurt. It all blurred together. He couldn't think at all._

_Not even the girl's voice made any sense._

"_Hm, you're really fragile. But you look a lot like my friend, you know? She was really cute! All covered in cuts like this!" He thought he saw the girl's maniac smile contort into a frown. "Too bad I had to leave after that._

The Augur's eyes snapped open, and he heard his own labored breathing. He needed to write all of that down later. His head was still spinning, trying to reorient itself. That was far more vivid than he had been expecting. And he wasn't sure that was a good thing.

He leaned against the metal table, his knuckles white as he tried to recover his balance. His breathing slowed, and he glanced back towards the boy. Focus. Finish the autopsy. Focus. He gingerly let go of the table, and stood back up. Ok, injury report.

Dozens of minor cuts were spread across his chest and arms, along with bruises and a few laceration wounds. It appeared that he had been stabbed in the biceps and thighs, tearing the muscles in such a manner that the limbs wouldn't move properly without excruciating pain. In a manner that made it difficult to struggle against an attacker. The Augur's mouth twitched, twisting into a grimace. From the reports, he had been operating under the assumption that the killer had been drawing out the person's death, but this was practically confirmation.

The sheer amount of minor wounds, along with the few major, non-lethal ones, led the Augur to the conclusion that the murderer was trying to make the pain last for as long as possible. But for what reason? The killer had no relation to the boy, so it wasn't a personal vendetta. And, while some of the victims had mutation quirks, this boy didn't, meaning that it was unlikely to be a hate crime of some sort.

"Anything of note?" Tsuruko reentered the room, a plastic case in her hands and her hair wrapped into a neat bun.

"A few things." The Augur took the case from her hands and set it on the cart beside him, while Tsuruko flipped open a notepad and clicked her pen. "Surface cuts and bruises are similar to the other reports; several dozen spread across the arms and upper chest area. Of more importance is these," he gestures to the thighs and biceps, "which appear to be non-lethal, but painful and disabling. More than likely used by the killer to try and stop him from struggling."

Tsuruko nodded, and wrote the notes down in a practiced, almost mechanical fashion. "And the neck?"

The Augur took a small magnifying glass from the case, and tilted the boy's chin, getting a better angle to observe the large gash across the right side of the neck. It was jagged, and extremely deep; not a clean cut in the slightest. The boy must've been jerking around as the killer sliced it open. He grabbed a pair of tweezers, and began inspecting the inside of the wound.

"Definitely the cause of death. The only wound on the body that could be considered lethal." He adjusted the angle of the head again, and looked through the magnifying glass. "It completely sliced through the external carotid, and punctured the internal one, just above the carotid sinus."

Tsuruko continued to jot things down on the notepad, but the Augur paused, and narrowed his eyes.

That was odd.

Extremely odd.

It most certainly wasn't from an animal, that much was obvious.

But the idea that it came from a human?

His gut twisted in disgust, guilt and pity for the boy clawing at his heart. Whatever lord there was, please bless this boy's soul. His last few moments must not have been pleasant ones.

"The killer could possibly have Renfield's Syndrome. Make sure to check the database for known criminals with it."

"Huh?" Tsuruko glanced up, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Come here." He waved Tsuruko over, and directed her gaze towards a series of indentations around the carotid artery wound. "These are bite marks. _Human_ bite marks."

Tsuruko looked at the marks, and then at the Augur, abject horror in her eyes. "Wait, are you saying that the killer _bit _him?"

"Indeed." His frown deepened, and he placed the tweezers down on the table, his mind concocting dozens of possibly situations. "It seems our killer was out for a meal."

God, the shit this job put him through.

)ooOoo(

Himiko suddenly felt hungry. The special type of hungry.

The sort that made her cheeks flush, and her heart flutter. It was the type that couldn't be satisfied by a can of lemon soda, or one of the microwaveable ramen bowls from the 7/11. Those were special treats for special occasions, but not even they could fill the craving in her stomach, or the yearning in her chest.

Of course, she knew exactly why she felt this way. She knew exactly how to fill it.

Ah, she saw how, right in front of her. But she couldn't. She knew she couldn't, at least not today. It would be embarrassing. They'd only known each other for a day, after all. And she wanted to get to know him before she did that.

Because he was special. The others were cute, but they didn't understand her. _Couldn't_ understand her. But him? He could, because they were the same. She saw that last night. She saw his soul poured out in red ink.

"Izu-kuuuun!" She shouted through the gate, waving to get his attention. Even from the other side of the school yard, she saw him jump at the sound of his name, as though the word was something to be scared of. "I'm over here!"

He whipped his head around, searching for the voice's origin like a man who had just heard a gunshot, before quickly catching sight of her. She saw the embarrassed blush spread across his face as he realized that a dozen other students were staring at them, and quietly rushed over to greet her.

Himiko smiled like a lynx, her toxic yellow eyes aglow.

Today was going to be fun.

**A/N: Good evening, all! I present to you the next chapter, hopefully of decent quality! It's feels like I'm burning though this at a much faster rate than I should be able to, but then again, I suppose sleep is optional when inspiration is flowing. **

**So, for those of you who don't want to be on an NRA watchlist like me, Renfield's Syndrome is the medical term for clinical vampirism, a form of paraphilia (or sometimes schizophrenia) that specifically refers to people who become excited, usually sexually, by the consumption of blood. So, in layman's terms… something that feels very uncomfortable to read about on the bus. Use that information how you will.**

**I suppose I should mention this, too: I've been using Japanese naming conventions, mostly out of convenience. So it's Midoriya Izuku, Toga Himiko, Uraraka Ochako, and so on. You guys probably noticed already, but I felt the need to point it out, just in case.**

**With only the worst of intentions,**

**Imp the Nefarious**

**Nonyaarb: I have good news and bad news for you. First, the good news: Here's the next slice of the story! Bad news: it's only the next slice, and I refuse to tell you what's happening. Will Deku become a villain? Vigilante? Hero? Who knows? I WON'T TELL *evil laughing***

**Some Asshole: Ok, first off, wiseguy, no fucking swearing on my good christian website, let alone in your username! God, some people. Ok, I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Thanks so much for the compliment! I hope to turn this into a long-running, and emotionally fulfilling, story, so to know that the characters are well written is a weight off my chest. And, talking about the transition… Looking back, I'd agree. Formatting is weird on this site. Though, the idea of the grizzly detective type Augur sitting in on a Midoriya household dinner is a fun thought.**

**ChildishGuestino: Thanks for your concern, but don't worry. By the time I published the last chapter, I was already feeling at least reasonably better. I would ask for thoughts and prayers, but considering that I'm an imp, that might have the opposite of intended effect. And thanks for pointing those things out about Himiko! I was experimenting just a tad with her characterization, and considering your reaction, I'll mark it down as a success!**

**Sewrtyuiop: Toga really did save him; the boy can't lie to save his life. So, the upside, Izuku got to sidestep the question and avoid some harsh topics! Bad news… He now is unlikely to get the needed therapy. He, uh, he could've used it. Too late though!**

**Healthcare: Spelling and grammar is still an… issue for me. I had to literally print this sucker out and go at it with a red pen. And yet, the moment I post it, I start seeing all of the mistakes I missed…. *sigh* Oh well. I'm just thankful they're not **_**too**_** noticeable. I'm glad you enjoyed seeing Little Ms. Hematophage and her one true love/one true victim, Mr. Evergreen Scrub!**


	5. Chapter 5

"_A fishy!"_

_Himiko clapped her hands together, giggling with glee. She loved this game! Papa was smiling too. His smile made her feel good, like a warm, fuzzy blanket on a cold winter night. _

"_That's right, Himi-chan." The setting sun's warm light tumbled through the window, playing off the shadows of Papa's loving yellow eyes. "You're so smart! Now, what's this one?"_

_Himiko watched Papa's hands closely, barely able to keep in one place as she rocked back and forth in her seat. Papa's fingers melted into a gray slime, looking just like the playdough she had gotten for her birthday, before he slapped his hands together, and opened them like a blossoming flower, revealing a tiny brown doggy. Papa gave a wide, cheeky grin. "Bark, bark!"_

"_Ooh, ooh!" Himiko jumped up and down in her seat, excitedly snatching the doggy out of Papa's hands to look at it from every angle. "A puppy!" She tugged at its legs with her pudgy fingers, and it flexed like rubber putty._

"_Right again!" He ruffled her hair, and gently kissed her on the forehead, a feather tickle that made her laugh and wrap her arms around his strong neck. He slipped his hands under her, and lifted her into the air, playfully bouncing her. "You learn so fast! How about we go get a treat?"_

_Himiko's gaze shot up towards Papa, her daisy-colored eyes twinkling in excitement. "A treat? What sorta treat?"_

"_Hmm…" Papa put a finger to his chin, as though taking a moment to think. Oh, but he was just pretending! She knew what he wanted!_

"_How about plum popsicles?" He ran a hand through the tangled blond puffball that was Himiko's hair, failing to straighten it even a little._

"_That's what we get every time!" She puffed out her bottom lip, pouting, and hugged the doggy close to her chest._

"_Ah, you caught me!" He smiled brightly, and Himiko folded her arms over her chest._

"_Why don't we ever try anything new, Papa?"_

"_Well, I have my favorites!" He tenderly held his daughter close. "But, how about we make a deal? We get popsicles, but you can choose any flavor you want."_

_Himiko watched him with a critical eye, looking as serious as a child could. She frowned a little, trying to figure out Papa's trick, before cracking a wide smile. "Deal!"_

"_Great!" He let the girl down, and took her by the hand, leading her to the door. "Then let's go!"_

_In the end, she got a plum popsicle anyway. After all, it was her favorite too._

)ooOoo(

"Izu-kuuuun!" An off-kilter voice cut through the warm spring air, overrunning the more soft-spoken and casual conversations of the schoolyard. "I'm over here!"

Izuku jumped, snapped out of his heavy thoughts, and whipped his head back and forth, attempting to find who was calling for him. Who was that? It didn't sound like a teacher, it was too high pitched. But it didn't sound like any of the students he knew. Not that many students talked to him, but-

Across the schoolyard, on the other side of the fence, he caught sight of a girl in a cardigan.

Toga?

… What was she doing here? He glanced around, only to notice several other students watching him with mild curiosity. He already knew what they were asking. He could see it in their eyes.

_Who on earth would talk to Izuku?_

He cast his eyes down in shame, his face feeling hot and red, before rushing over to the gate in a stiff-legged speed walk. Head down, notebooks clutched to his chest, just don't make eye contact. Don't make eye contact, and they'll ignore you. He reached the gate, and before he even looked at Toga, he glanced back with wide eyes, only to find everyone had already moved on, chatting and milling about. They...

They didn't care.

He let out a relieved sigh, thankful to no longer be the center of attention. But his emerald eyes felt heavy with unshed tears. They had all day. They had ever since Kacchan had yelled at him. His friend had been right, but it still hurt to be reminded of how useless he was. It always hurt.

He apathetically turned back towards the gate, lacking the energy to frown…

Before coming face to face with a certain yellow-eyed girl.

"How was today, Izu-kuuun?" She drew out his name, spreading her teeth in a predatory smile as she leaned towards him.

"Yah!" Izuku yelped, practically shedding his skin. "T-Toga! It, uh, well, it was…" He paused for a moment, regaining his nerves as the girl leaped away from him. "I-it was fine, I guess..."

No need to trouble her with his issues, after all. He knew he worried too much anyway, and she had already promised to help him train, so to force his complaints onto her would be, well... just plain selfish. He couldn't do that.

She cocked her head, her lips pressed into an inquisitive thin line. There was something lurking in her gaze, perhaps… Disappointment? Remorse? Sympathy? He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, attempting to decipher the mystery hidden behind her feline eyes, but it disappeared as soon as he tried to focus on it.

She smiled again, a tad smaller than before, a tad less enthusiastic. "Well, I'll find out eventually. Come on!" She twirled around, starting down the road.

Izuku watched her for a moment, his mouth still twisted into a contemplating scowl. What did that response mean? Find out what? How his day went? Her tone had sounded playful, but it had sounded fake, too. His skin crawled, but he brushed the feeling aside, jogging a bit to catch up with her.

Cherry blossom season was far from ending, but it had passed its prime. The blossoms were still there, hundreds of pink bell-shaped flowers perched on black bark branches, but they had begun to wither oh-so-slightly, with some of their petals getting caught in the warm pollen-scented wind and floating gently down to the concrete sidewalks. Their color was still strikingly vivid though, in such a way that Izuku would often step around large clusters of the petals as he walked. He kept his gaze trained on the ground, careful to avoid desecrating the naturally occuring artwork.

He glanced up, only to see Toga looking back at him. Their eyes met. She smiled friendlily, while he just blushed and looked away. His cheeks were probably the same color as the cherry blossoms; his face felt like it, at least.

He couldn't wrap his mind around her, and it made him nervous. Kacchan might be mean, but he was predictable. So long as he knew what mood Kacchan was in, he would know whether to fade into the background or try and laugh along, flee or submit. Predictability was nice. Predictability was comfortable.

But Toga was anything but predictable. She was a loose cannon, a feral cat. Maybe it was just because he had only known her for a short time, but he had no idea what was going on inside her head, behind those energetic eyes and pink blush. It was terrifying in so many ways. But still…

He looked up at her, and for the first time, she wasn't looking at him. It was… odd. He was used to having to look away, or risk eye contact. Risk having to meet her gaze, and have his soul stared into. But now that she wasn't, it felt oddly relieving. It felt like he had the freedom to actually look at her.

A small smile played across her face as she bounced down the street, her face basking in the warm sunbeams. Her hair was a mess, thin and stringy, but tied into two large balls on either side on her head. Well, "ball" wasn't the right word. That gave a sense of clean, wholistic order. They were, upon closer inspection, more accurately described as "giant knots sufficiently contained by the strategic placed bobby pins." Then again…

Izuku raised a hand to his own head, and felt the chaotic mess of green hair that rested atop it. He could learn a lesson or two from Toga about how to use bobby pins, really.

Toga paused, her smile only widening as she looked across the street. Izuku slowed to a stop a few steps behind her, his confusion evident, and tossed an uncertain glace in the direction of Toga's gaze.

It was a convenience store. Just a 7/11. Specifically, the one Izuku would occasionally stop in at to pick up hero magazines at on his way home. It was the only 7/11 on this side of town, but nothing about it really was special. He adjusted his backpack, shifting its weight as he looked between the conventional store and the unconventional girl. "Uh, Toga, are you… Ok?" His voice cracked a bit as he spoke up, his throat sore from going practically unused the entire day.

"Hm?" Toga's eyes darted towards him, as though she had just snapped out of a trance. "Why wouldn't I be? Wanna get some snacks?"

"Huh?" Izuku scratched the back of his neck, mostly out of a lack of anything better to do with his hands, and shifted his eyes to a particularly pretty cluster of cherry blossoms, mostly because it wasn't another person. "I-I guess so? But aren't you supposed to help me train today?"

"Well, duh." She grabbed him by the hand, and began pulling him towards the store. He pulled away, but was unable to hold fast against the bottomless well of energy that was the blonde. "But I'm hungry! And I wanna chat a bit!"

"But-" He attempted to sputter out an excuse, but Toga was past listening to him, dragging him across the small street and into the store. If it had been in question before whether or not he had been blushing, the answer was now a definitive yes. Her hands were hot, but not in a comfortable way. No amount of skin contact was comfortable for Izuku. Talking with others made his cheeks flush, embarrassed; skin contact in any form was enough to make his head spin.

The entrance bell chimed as she dragged him through the automatic door, and then she carelessly let go, dashing to the back of the tiny building. The cashier cast a disinterested glance at Toga, and another at Izuku. Izuku wanted to apologize for the ruckus, and for just barging in, and for apologizing so much afterwards, but the words wouldn't leave his tongue. The cashier instead just politely nodded, unable to see the discord raging in the boy's head, and lazily turned back to her comic book.

Izuku could hear the chaos that was Toga more than he could see it. And he could see it perfectly fine, watching her systematically tear apart the neatly organized freezer section one shelf at a time. She looked as though she were playing a game, a wide smile on her face as she searched for the prize. After almost a minute of diving, she came back up for air, a victorious twinkle in her eye and her prey in hand.

"Haha! Found you, Mr. Popsicle!" She turned to Izuku, and grinned with the innocent glee of a child. "What do you wanna get?"

"Um," Izuku chewed on his lip, "give me a moment…" He slipped into the next aisle, quickly scanning the candy bars for anything with even a chance of nutritional value. There... weren't many options. He picked up one, only to read its nutrition facts, and put it back down. He repeated this process, going from one to another over and over until there were no more candy bars. None of them were even remotely healthy, and if he was training after this, than he really shouldn't-

"This one!" Toga's hand shot down, snatching up one and shoving it in Izuku's face. "I'm sure you'll like it!"

Izuku yelped in surprise, performing acrobatics to catch the snack, just barely not falling on his butt. He looked at the candy, and chewed on the inside of his lip. This one was actually potentially one of the _least _healthy, with caramel and tons of sugars and… And Toga watching him, her gaze somewhere between that of a vigilant cat on the prowl, and a sad puppy that didn't want to be rejected.

He was going to suffer. If he hadn't been going to suffer during his training before, this had sealed his fate. But the tightness in his chest politely informed him that he simply would not be allowed to deny her.

"Ok, sure, I, uh, I guess…"

"Yay!" She grabbed him and dragged him to the counter, where the cashier's only response to their arrival was a lazy blink and a 'I-don't-get-paid-enough-for-this' grunt. She quickly scanned the younger girl's item, and droned to them in a monotonous voice.

"That'll be two-hundred and thirty yen."

"Thanks!" Toga smiled with her usual breakneck enthusiasm, and pulled a black leather wallet out of one of her massive cardigan pockets, only to look inside and have her smile droop. There was only one hundred yen note.

She frowned, confused at first, and then disappointed. Izuku saw her excitement die in front of his eyes. He felt his heart squeeze, and ran his fingers over his own wallet. He didn't have a part time job, and his allowance wasn't much, but…

"Here- Here you are." Almost as soon as he thought about it consciously, the bills were already passing from his hand to the cashier's. He glanced down to see Toga watching him, more with curiosity than surprise. He saw it in her eyes. The look of… a scientist. An ethologist perhaps, taking notes in her head as she made a fascinating discovery. But then, as she always seemed to do when he saw beneath the surface, buried it with a wide smile. He felt something akin to disappointment scrape away as the inside of his chest, his lungs deflating as he lost sight the more complex light in the girl's eyes.

"You're bright red, just like a lollipop." She leaned close to him, bumping shoulders. "It's so cute!"

"Oh, well…" Izuku would swear he felt steam coming off of his face. "Th-thanks?" He quickly grabbed his receipts, and shuffled over to one of the tables near the window, gingerly resting his bag against the chair he placed himself into. Toga plopped herself down in the seat across from him, tearing open her popsicle and digging in.

It wasn't the right weather for a popsicle, now that Izuku thought about it. It was a nice spring day, but it was still spring, and far from hot enough to justify sucking and nibbling at flavored ice. But then again, to each their own. He rarely ate popsicles anyway, so how could he judge whether it was the right time to savor one?

Warm golden light trickled through the wide storefront window, illuminating the shop and pouring over Izuku's skin like fresh bathwater. It was comfortable, relaxing even. He gazed out the window, feeling his taut muscles loosen and he sat back and watched students pass by. He felt a sense of serenity, feeling at ease as he watched the world move without him. It had always been this way, and he had grown used to it. Comforted by it. No matter how much he messed up, he wouldn't cause any issues. Nothing major, at least.

His eyes flickered around the scene, memorizing and cataloging the details. If he had the ability to paint, he could possibly recreate the scene from memory. Though, he knew it wouldn't be nearly as beautiful. His rendition wouldn't be artwork, it wouldn't capture the emotions he was feeling. No, it would be more akin to a scientific diagram, capturing the facts, displaying an image, but nothing more. Nothing _important_. Well, if he had one small comfort, he knew he wasn't stealing his talent from the world; he didn't have talent anyway, and there were plenty of people that could paint. Paint better than he would ever be able to, at least.

He felt a sigh leave his lips, his unopened candy bar in his hand. That was probably what he'd be like as a hero too. Try with all of his might, but there would always be someone better. One who only had to put in half the work, because they had double the talent. The Kacchans of the world.

He frowned, casting his gaze toward the linoleum tile floor. He couldn't even be angry at them, though. He couldn't blame them for their talent. After all, they were trying to save people, just like him. They just were born lucky. They would just always be better than him.

"Your eyes are cloudy agaaaain." Toga's distinctly cheery sing-song voice dragged Izuku out of the depths of his own mind. "What's wrong?"

Izuku leaned forward, resting his chin in the palm of his hand, but his gaze firmly planted on the ground. "Nothing, really. I'm fine."

He could see Toga frown out of the corner of his eye. "It's not nice to lie to your friend."

Izuku distracted his eyes with the candy bar, reading over the candy's nutrition fact. Not that it had become any better for his health in the past few minutes. She was his friend, she said. She had promised to help train him. She had even been the one to… well, to stop him from ending it. That sounded better. 'Ending' was a much more pleasant word than the half dozen others that came to mind. He felt a bit of guilt claw at his heart. He barely knew her, but she had done so much to help help him. Even if the training did no good, the fact that she was willing to help, willing to to more than just laugh in his face… It meant a lot. So, he owed her honesty, at the very least.

Knowing that was the easy part. The hard part was sitting there in the heavy silence, attempting to piece together what he was supposed to say. What were the rain clouds? Well…

Everything, kind of.

But nothing in specific.

His classmates laughed at him, but he was used to that, and every hero had to deal with their fair share of heckling. He was nothing special.

His hero had told him his dream was impossible, but that wasn't wrong, or even mean. It was just him being honest. Just forcing Izuku to understand the reality he had refused to see.

His grades were mediocre. He had no talents. He had no quirk.

If he had to put it into words…

"... I just feel so useless. Trapped. Like nothing I do will make a difference. My dreams are stupid, just a bunch of childish fantasies, and I know I'll never be as good as people like All Might, or even Kacchan..."

The words weren't loud, but they felt deafening to Izuku. They weren't spoken confidently, but they carried the weight of a commandment from on high. They hurt, because… because it was Izuku admitting it to himself. Not just to Toga, but to the small part of him that refused to give up on being a hero. But, when the words left his mouth, when they became more than just a voice in his head, they crushed that stubborn will. They stomped it out in one fell swoop.

He got the distinct feeling that he was being observed. Not watched, as though a stalker were following him; but analyzed and categorized, in an almost cold and mechanical way. And he knew just why. He could feel her hot eyes traveling over him.

He peered up, hesitant to see her reaction. But all he saw was her sitting there, a earthy red popsicle in her mouth and a fiery pink blush spreading across her face. But, despite that, he could see the sympathy lingering in her eyes, a quiet little thing that seemed shy compared to her much louder and more boisterous behaviour. Or, perhaps shy was the wrong word; it simply wasn't as outspoken as her toothy smiles.

She bit down on the popsicle, swallowing a large bite, before leaning forward and resting her head in her hands.

"Izu-kun, why do you wanna be a hero?"

Izuku frowned, taken off guard by the question. "Well, uh-"

"Is it for fame?" She cut him off, her voice soft, but with a distinct edge, warm, but lacking the tone of a smile. "Money? Popularity? Or maybe-"

"No!" For once, Izuku spoke up, his voice almost cracking under the strain. He knew there were a lot of things standing in the way of being a hero. If someone called him weak, or stupid for trying, he knew it was true. He was a deku, after all. But to try and be a hero for something as petty as money or fame...

"It's… It's not for any of those things. I want to help people! I want to save them with a smile, so that… so that they'll know everything will be ok."

Toga raised her eyebrows, apparently surprised by his burst of energy, but her subdued smile of sympathy regained some of its lost vigor. "Then you don't need to be as strong as All Might!"

"Of course I don't need to be as strong as All Might, he's the number one hero. But…" Izuku watched the girl's hands fiddle with the popsicle stick. "But I'm not strong enough to be like any hero. They have quirks. All of them. But I don't, and… And I can't change that."

"Well, you don't _need _one." Toga poked his nose with the stick, causing him to flinch. "You want to save people, that already makes you more heroic than half the heroes out there. You have the strength in you. You just have to learn how to use it!" She smiled brightly, a little piece of her shining soul peering out into the world.

"No, I can't-" Izuku opened his mouth, and then closed it. He opened it again, just to rethink his words yet again. How… how was he supposed to respond? He didn't believe her. He _couldn't _believe her. But, more than anything, he _wanted _to believe her. He felt frozen as he looked at her smile, sharp and dangerous, yet undeniably genuine. He could hear it in her voice, that she was telling the truth. That she really thought he could. But… Why? Why did she believe in him? Why did she want him to succeed? Did she enjoy seeing people fail? Or maybe, was she just as delusional as him? He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white.

For years, he had been trapped in a bottle. Ever since that doctor had diagnosed him, he had lived in a glass bottle, separated from the rest of the world by an invisible, but impassable, wall. No way over, under, or around. No way through, no exit. And, slam his fists all that he might, the only thing that would break was his bones. And so, he had given up, satisfied to watch the world from his bottle and pretend that one day he would join them.

It had been a fantasy. Looking back, he had never treated it as real. Everything he had done had been superficial. He studied the heroes and claimed he could become one of them. He was told that he needed a quirk, and he fooled himself into thinking, if he just _thought_ hard enough, he wouldn't need one. He had never been preparing for the world outside the bottle. He had never even been trying to break out of it.

Yet, here was his chance. Here was the one person who took him seriously. The one person who truly believed in him. The one who wanted to help him shatter the glass, and become what he had always fantasized of.

And here he was, trying to think of reasons to reject her help.

He was awful. Truly awful. One little push from Kacchan, and he had lost all of his strength. He was giving up without a fight.

That little part of him, the part that had clung to his fantasies, that he had tried so hard to quash, it was still there. And it was angry. He clenched his jaw, and met Toga's eyes, his glare as hard as gemstones.

"... Show me."

)ooOoo(

Himiko was, simply put, excited. More than that, really. Ecstatic! After all, she had seen a new part of Izu-kun! She had seen the steel in his soul, and it only made her want to see more of him. It gave her confidence that she could actually help him. She hummed happily to herself as she danced down a back alley, a nervous boy following behind.

"Where, um," Her ears perked at Izuku's voice. "Where are we going?"

She spun on her heel, playfully kicking a crumpled up beer can as she turned to her green-haired friend. "Somewhere to practice, obviously! We can't practice in a 7/11, you know?" She snickered, her hands shoved into her cardigan.

"Oh, no, but I was just thinking…" He glanced around the alley, a concerned frown on his face as he scanned the graffiti and litter that seemed to coat the whole alley. It was a sunny day, but the light barely pierced the thick layers of darkness that buried the alleyway, wrapping the two of them in blankets of shadows. "... Isn't this place a bit, well… dangerous?"

She smiled bashfully, basking in the way his nervous voice slightly wavered as he spoke. It was so cute! "Well, of course! A little danger is just what we need for practice!"

He seemed to freeze at the comment, petrified like a stone as he watched her. She could see the fear in his eyes. The double-guesses. The feeling that he may have made a mistake.

It made Himiko's heart skip a beat.

"What's the danger?" He had lost his stutter. His voice was calm, but in the way of someone whose fight-or-flight response had just kicked in. So, he was the sort that became deathly quiet, hm? He looked like a kitten, but she could tell that there was a tiger just waiting to be released. Oh, heart, did you know that what you desired was right in front of you?

And so, for a brief instant, she gave into temptation.

"Me."

No time seemed to pass, but the gap between them disappeared. Her small frame slammed into Izu-kun, throwing him to the ground, and she heard him cry in pain. It was a meek sound, a sweet syrup that she hungrily drank up. She straddled him, pinning him to the cement, and held a boxcutter against his throat, pressing the blade into his skin. Enough to feel his pulse through the blade, but not so much as to slice open the paper-thin flesh.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, a bird ramming against the walls of its cage over and over again in a desperate attempt to fly. She could feel his heartbeat too. Hear his hot, shaky breaths. See the complete and absolute terror in his petrified green eyes.

Her body screamed for her to cut him open. Show him how much she cared. Show him how much she wanted to help. He was unique, he could understand her like no one else. She knew he could. She had read it in the note, about the hopelessness, about the bullies, _about the liars_. They were birds of a feather, and she wanted to fly with him. She wanted to mark him. _Claim him. _A massive, cannibalistic smile split her face open, and she licked her teeth in anticipation.

But she paused, her gut twisting as she met his eyes. The fear in those two marbles was titillating, it was invigorating, it made her feel hot and tingly and _alive_. But…

But it didn't make her feel happy. Or, rather, it made her feel the opposite of happy. None of the others had made her happy either, but none of them had made her feel this _bad_. She felt… she wasn't sure. Sick? Guilty? _Wrong_, somehow, but she didn't know how. To cut him open, after only being with him for this short of a time… the idea made her heart heavy. She didn't want him to go. She wanted to be with him. That's what she wanted him to know. But if she did… than she'd have to leave. And he would be gone, having never been able to understand her.

Himiko's smile fell. Her grip on her knife loosened. She leaned down, right above the nape of his neck. She could smell him. It drove the primal part of her, the pleasure seeking part of her, absolutely mad. Her teeth itched, and the only way to scratch them was with his flesh. She opened her mouth, practically able to taste the blood that would pour from him.

He shivered under her, terrified. Beyond terrified. Afraid to stay still. Afraid to struggle. His breathing was heavy and labored. But he uttered something small, just loud enough for her to hear. A weak little mewl, the strangled cry of an abandoned kitten.

"Someone… anyone... please save me…"

Himiko's teeth never met the boy's flesh. Some part of her refused to let her. And that same part of her wrested control of her neck, dragging her head just next to Izu-kun's ear. She had to resist. Resist the temptation. Just for now.

"No one will save you." A grin spread across her face, and she felt him stiffen under her. "Do you really think heroes can save everyone? They can't save you… So now, you're mine."

**Good evening, all! How is everyone? I apologize for this taking so long. I've been working with my beta to try and set up a more regular update schedule; you can expect updates to usually fall on Sundays from here on out. Usually. Maybe. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, though!**

**In other news, we're at a whopping 100 follows! Consciously, I know that this isn't the largest or most impressive thing, but I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting to ever get more than maybe fifty. But here are! I'll make sure to keep up the good work! Thanks for all the support!**

**With only the worst of intentions,**

**Imo the Nefarious**

**Nonyaarb: I do apologize for how slow the last chapter was, as well as this one. I assure you though, this story will have its fair share of action. It will just take a bit of time. There's still 10 months until the exam, and 10 months can change a person.**

**ChildishGuestino: You seem to misunderstand; It's not that I'm avoiding giving you whiplash. It's that whiplash is the plan. You just have to be thoroughly lulled into it. *cackles maniacally* But, in all honesty, this first arc is going to be a tad slower than the others, and so I'm trying to burn through it for you guys. I know the pain of a dull story.**


	6. Chapter 6

Think! Think, oh God, think! Think of _something! _Thinkthinkthinkthink!

He's gonna die.

Don't think that! That's not what he meant at all!

The cold steel blade dug into Izuku's skin, making his breaths come out as weak gasps, grasping for thin wisps of air. His head was light, and the world spun slightly, thrown into motion by the girl who tackled him. Was he getting enough air? He couldn't be getting enough air. Definitely not. Toga's sharp nails clamped onto his bony shoulder, a sprung bear trap, and despite being light as a feather, her weight was crushing his chest, each shaky, labored breath more desperate than the last.

He was an idiot! Why hadn't he seen this coming? Everything about her screamed of insanity. Her canines seemed so much longer than before, so much sharper, those of a predator. And her eyes, oh God, her eyes. They were absolutely glowing, toxic yellow lit up with giddy joy and… Lust? He was dead. He was stupid, and he was dead. His breath caught on a whimper, and he felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

"Someone… anyone… please save me…"

Become a hero? What had he been thinking? That had been stupid! Everyone had told him it was impossible, and he should've listened! She had just been luring him in, just setting a trap! Her words had been music to his ears, but only because she was the pied piper. She told him what he had wanted to hear, and… And he fell for it.

He wanted to squeeze his eyes shut, block out the images forcing their way into his head. The blush. The smile. The pure _excitement _pouring out of her. He didn't want to see that. But he couldn't force his bloodshot eyes shut.

He felt the blade against his throat loosen, ever so slightly. Enough for him to dare to breath. Should he fight? This might be his chance! But, would he win? No, definitely not. But-

Her nails dug even further into his shoulder, cutting off his thoughts with a gasp. She shifted her weight, leaning down right next to his ear. He could feel her breath, hot in the brisk spring air. He could feel her _anticipation_, the way it seemed she was just waiting for something.

"No one will save you." Her voice was low, carrying a smile but undoubtedly… _angry_, That was the only word he could think of to describe the sweet poison that dripped off of her words. "Do you really think heroes can save everyone? They won't save you… So now, you're mine."

Oh God.

Oh God.

_Oh God_

_He's dead._

She's going to cut his throat open, and no one's going to save him.

Izuku's breath hitched, and he held back the tears forming in his eyes. Mom, he wanted to apoligize for being so stupid. Or finish his hero journal. Or watch another episode of that stupid show where that guy with one horn just complained about heroes while everyone else laughed along. Or-

_-Or at least try._

He… he just needed to get out. Get out alive, and call the police. They'd send a hero, or an officer, or, or _someone._ So, that meant he needed to get his phone, and call the police, and somehow avoid getting stabbed long enough for someone to arrive. So he had to-

Izuku shrieked, pain and shock setting his nerves on fire as the blade dug into his skin, just deep enough to draw blood. Toga licked her lips, and dragged her tongue across the fresh cut, lapping up the blood that seeped from his neck. She raised herself up a bit, her toxic yellow eyes watching him with lovesick joy.

"You're so cute when you mutter, you know that? It makes my heart go flutter, like a butterfly!" She shivered in pleasure, and Izuku's terror descended into abject horror. He wasn't just going to be killed… _He was going to be eaten_.

"But no matter how cute your muttering is, thoughts like that just won't do!" She stole a bit more blood from his veins, before coming back up for air, her teeth were stained red. She giggled, a terrifyingly cheerful sound that seemed to clash with the deep seated anger in her eyes. "After all, a hero can't save you. They wouldn't come in time!"

Of course a hero could save him. Of course they'd come in time. That was their job. That was their purpose. _They always saved those in need._

"Heroes can't save those who need it the most! They _don't _save them!" Toga spat it out, sorching acid spilling out of her wolfish smile.

That can't be true!

But...

But they never were for him, were there? Other than with the slime villain, had a hero ever helped him? Not when Kacchan had beat him up. Not when the other students laughed at him. Not even when he was about to throw himself off a building.

Toga's grin, feral and hungry, fell slightly, and her eyes flickered with a distinct pain. "They've never saved you before, have they?"

His heart tightened, and he bit his lip, his breaths far to fast, and far too shallow. Toga was crazy, and terrifying, and so many other things, but… but she was right. Heroes couldn't save everyone. They could fail. They _had _failed. He saw it on the news, the robbers that got away. The murders that weren't stopped. And now, he was going to die like a textbook murder mystery, stabbed to death in a back alley, not a single hero there to save him.

No one had been there for him.

No one ever had.

No friends.

No heroes.

Not even Mom.

No one was going to save him, because he had long since been abandoned. He wasn't special, he wasn't loved, he wasn't cared about. He didn't have a quirk, he didn't have a talent. _He was a Deku_. And he felt…

He felt _angry_. He clenched his jaw, his fear and anger and terror and self-loathing all mixing together into some sort of nauseous, toxic mess. He wanted to cry. To scream. To punch and kick. To let it all go, to break everything he had ever touched, and then throw himself off a building, because a bloody stain on the pavement was all that he was good for.

Izuku squeezed his fists until his knuckles went white, and he shivered with anger. Blood seeped out of his neck, hot and sticky on his skin, and his mouth was an arroyo, the riverbed having become dry and cracked.

No one would save him. No one ever had.

So he had to save himself.

How? How should he? Goals, goals! A plan was the first thing he needed, and a plan needs objectives.

Izuku needed to remove the knife, both from his neck and from her hands. That should get him enough space to run. He was definitely not as athletic as her, so he had to free himself in a single explosive movement. Could he outrun her? What if he couldn't? What woul-

She traced the knife up and down his neck, giggling gleefully. His breath caught, but he forced himself to calm down, enough to think at least.

No time for 'what ifs!' He had to move! He'd deal with whether he could run fast enough later! His stomach was a knot of steel chains, but he couldn't hesitate.

He clenched his jaw, and tensed his muscles, preparing to use every drop of strength in his body at once-

Only for Toga to stand up and leap away, a satisfied grin on her face as she put several paces' space between them.

"You're doing great, Izu-kun!" Toga's eyes shined, her knife gracefully twirling in her hand as she danced back and forth. "You learn so fast!"

He scrambled to his feet, heart racing, and his hands shaking as they held closed the cut on his neck. Why did she look so happy? Why wasn't she attacking him? He stumbled back, every nerve in his body screaming at him.

Run.

Run, run, run run run.

Run while he has a chance.

Run while he's alive.

Toga was dangerous. He could see it in her eyes, oh so clearly now. How did he not see it before? He needed to run, to get the hell away.

But he couldn't. His feet were lead, his muscles taut violin strings. Too taut, ready to snap. Every part of him wanted to run, but none of them were brave enough to make the first move.

And so he stood there, frozen in quivering terror, as she approached. As she meandered in his direction, never walking directly towards him, but getting ever-closer. Izuku could see blood on her lips. _His _blood_. _His brain felt broken. All the pieces, all of the gears and levers, they were there, but they were spinning in different directions, grinding against each other but unable to start the engine.

Why wasn't he running?

She took a step closer, now within arm's reach.

Why wasn't he trying to escape?

The silence of the back alley was all encompassing, every drop of sound swallowed up by his raging panic. Amongst the chaos, the only sound in the world was his wild heartbeat, throbbing in his ears.

That, and the footsteps of a certain yellow-eyed girl.

She reached up, gingerly caressing his cheek with her long, pink nails. Her smile was small and gentle, but caged a tsunami of raw energy. She was practically buzzing, restraining herself. Why? Why was she restraining her self? What was she doing? And why was he letting her?

"You neck is so cute." She lifted his chin, a hot blush spreading across her cheeks as she took a moment to admire her work, a painter admiring the color of their brushstrokes. "And it smells nice, too."

He swallowed, shivering, and her feline eyes traveled upwards, making eye contact. Holding eye contact.

Izuku wanted to discard all of his stomach's innards, staining the alleyway a pukish-shade of yellow-green.

He saw the glint of a blade in her hand, and knew he had lost his chance to run.

He tried, and he failed. He was a coward, afraid of the what-if's, afraid to make a move.

No one could save him, not even himself.

He held his breath, and pinched his eyes shut, waiting for her tear open his soft belly.

But instead, he felt her cool forehead against his. He heard the knife click shut, and felt her hand push his aside, pressing closed the cut on his neck. Their breath intermingled, and she cupped his cheek, as though to comfort him. He was shaking from adrenaline, but her steady hands stilled him.

And he leaned into it, his limbs practically giving out under him.

"Shshshsh… It's ok…"

The air smelled of trash and oil, so thick and pundgent he could nearly taste it. Cars honked in the distance, and he could faintly hear the voices of passersby. But none of that registered to him. They were all pointless details. His mind, drowning in a flood of emotions that shattered any form of logical consistency, could only focus on the way he and his near-murderer gently swayed back and forth, the world having reached an odd, unnatural equilibrium.

Everything hurt. That was the only thing he could feel clearly. Fear, anger, disappointment, self-loathing, and… and relief? Was Toga comforting him? His mind slammed against the walls of its cage, saying it wasn't right, saying that this person couldn't be trusted. That he had to push her away, run, get help, but…

He didn't care anymore. His body wasn't listening. His heart didn't care about logic. The only thing it cared about was that… after so long, someone was comforting him. He knew it wasn't right, but it felt right. Or, at least, it felt _good_.

She ran a hand through his tangled green hair, her fingers gently brushing the knotted mess. If Izuku was going to be honest with himself… It was soothing. Comforting. He was always too tense, but suddenly, everything felt loose and relaxed.

"Congratulations, Izu-kun," She spoke softly, more than an excited whisper, but less than her normal, cheerful shouting. "You just learned the most important lesson any hero can know."

"H-huh?" Izuku furrowed his eyebrows, a frowned slightly, his mind still hazy. He learned a lesson? Was this… was this his training?

"Yep!" She smiled, her teeth now suspiciously lacking in blood. "Lesson numero uno! You can't expect anyone else to swoop in and save you, because that's your job."

Izuku just stared at her, his eyes wide in shock. He temporarily forgot how to breath, and had to consciously remind himself to. Was that all an act? Was he never in actual danger? But if this was just training, why did she stab him? And what was with her drinking his blood? It didn't make any…

Well, it actually did make sense. Twisted, terrifying sense. The sort of logic that felt wrong to understand. But he understood it, and and the realization wouldn't leave his brain.

Lift as many weights as he could, run as many miles as he wanted, that wouldn't make him a hero. Being a hero was just as much about mentality as it was physical strength; he had seen heroes with amazing abilities get outdone by weaker, but more mentally apt, heroes. And what Toga was saying was…

"... I have to change my mentality?" His voice was unsteady, and crackly, like an old gramaphone.

"Mm-hm." Toga hummed, basking in the physical contact. Izuku could see the pure, unadulterated pleasure seeping out of her. She drew her hand away, licking her fingers clean of blood, before moving even closer to him."You don't like fighting, Izu! I can see it in how you walk, and how you talk. You're adorable, like a scared little puppy!" She petted him, as though just to emphasize the point. After a moment, though, her smile fell, and just the smallest amount of bitter anger leaked into her tone. "But puppies can't save people. Puppies are the people who need saved. So you need to become a wolf!"

"I didn't actually fight you at all, though..." He bit back his tongue, uncertain of the words coming out of his mouth.

"No, but you did decide to fight! I could see you were going to!" Her tone, so happy and encouraging, seemed to fly in the face of the boy who had just had his neck almost slit open in a back alley. "And have you ever really tried to fight?"

Izuku opened his mouth, to say he still failed, or that he had fought before, but… he hadn't. Not really. He had never stood up to Kacchan. He just clamped his mouth shut and beared it. Hid the bruises and burns, nothing more. And when All Might had told him he couldn't be a hero, he didn't fight back. He didn't try. He just hid in his bottle, and drowned in his self pity.

But here Toga was, telling him to fight.

Izuku stood back, regaining his balance, but Toga stepped forward, unwilling to be separated from him. Not… not that he really minded. Despite everything, a small blush came to his face. And she had just been trying to teach him something, so… what she did was ok, right? He raise a hand to the cut, and found it was already clotted. It was still sticky, and uncomfortable, but it wasn't serious. Not dangerous, at least.

There was no harm done, and if a few cuts was all it took for him to become a hero, should he really complain?

"But, what else are you going to teach me?" Izuku watched her nervously, a shrew that was still not entirely comfortable with the cat lingering outside its den.

"Hm?" Toga seemed to snap out of a trance, looking at him inquisitively. "How to be a hero, duh."

"B-but…" Izuku's tongue stumbled for a moment, his mind attempting to shift gears. Training schedule. Caloric intake. Jogging schedule. Strength training. He had thought about it all this morning. "I mean, how? I only have ten months, so I'll have to train daily. But even with with that, I won't be able to become as physically strong as the other applicants, let alone stronger. And unlike them, I don't have the advantage of the quirk, so-"

Toga giggled, and Izuku's voice shrunk, dissolving into a mess of incomprehensible mumbling. She let go of him, stepping back deeper into the dark alleyway. "That isn't an issue!"

"What do you mean? Due to my lack of quirk, I have to make up for it, and strength and endurance training seems the most reasonable, so…" Izuku brought a hand to his chin, his legs following Toga as his mind became distracted with various ideas, an engineer drafting potential machines in his sketchbook.

"Boys are so silly, always comparing their muscles. You don't need to be the strongest, because big muscles can only do so much. And besides," Toga stuck her tongue out at Izuku, feigning disgust. "Beefy muscles aren't cute at all. Soft, fragile boys are so much cuter!"

The two plodded through the alley, Toga watching with acute interest as Izuku's mind considered the possibilities. He could feel her sharp eyes wandering over him, but attempted to ignore it, and instead focus on his training. The blush on his face was evidence that he failed at the task.

What traits other than strength or endurance could he use? From what he knew about U.A., the entrance exam had two stages, a written and a practical test, but he had no idea what either contained. The practical test was more than likely to test combat and quirk ability; it just made sense. How, though? That was the question. The insurmountable fact of the matter was that, no matter what he did, there was bound to be a dozen others with quirks that made them inherently stronger than him. He grimaced, only pausing when it suddenly got much brighter. He glanced up, suddenly realizing he had simply followed Toga out of the other side of the alley. There was the entrance to a garage, carved into a building and boxed in on all sided by alleys and brick walls, with crumpled up garbage scattered around and piles of abandoned, rusted junk piled in the corners. A few larger machines lined the walls, along with a rusted out metal desk, its paint all long since flaked away, and a hydraulic lift that stretched from the floor to the ceiling.

"What... is this place?" Izuku's eyes wandered, scanning the garbage and abandoned junk as though clues might simply reveal themselves.

"A car shop, I think." Toga jumped up, playfulling hanging from the broken hydraulic lift like a baby monkey. "No one was here when I got here, though. So it's home now!"

"You live here?" Izuku joined Toga in the garage itself, and caught sight of a few cans of rancid oil. He covered his mouth with his hand, as though that could block out the sticky smell.

"Mm-hm!" Still hanging from the lift, she pointed her toes at a sparkly purple backpack leaning against the desk. She pouted, and pinched her nose. "At least for now. This place is really smelly."

No wonder, it had to have been abandoned for years! It looked like it was supposed to be a villain's lair, and everything about it made Izuku's skin crawl. He couldn't stop shooting glances towards the shadows, the mix of nervousness and leftover adrenaline making him twitchy.

"So, so," Toga carelessly dropped from the lift, and closed the distance between them, smiling as though it was finally her turn in a board game. "Have you figured out what you need to train? You were thinking really hard!"

"Huh?" Izuku reorganized his thoughts, dragging his attention away from how much of a health hazard living within arm's length of used car oil was. What did he need to train? If it wasn't his strength and endurance….

He cast his eyes downward, a soft scowl on his face. He had always prided himself on his knowledge of heroes, his ability to memorized strategies and statistics, but now... It was all so useless. "Um…. No."

Toga giggled, hiding her sharp canines behind her hand. "You think a lot, but you're stuck thinking about it from the perspective of a hero."

The boy cocked his head, watching her with uncertain eyes. "But, if I want to become a hero, I need to follow their example, right?" Izuku watched the girl from the corner of his eye, dancing around him but never coming within an arm's length. "I want to become one, and the pros are the best examples."

Toga's mischievous smile fell, and she slowed, balancing on her heels. "Then you'll never become a hero." She said it simply, as though the connection was obvious.

They simply watched each other for a moment, the air heavy. The best way to learn to be a hero was _from _heroes, wasn't it? It just made the most sense. Who else was he supposed to learn from? The puzzle pieces just didn't fit together, no matter what angle he tried to put them in at. Toga's gaze hid the answers; she knew the solution. But from the way her feline eyes hovered over him, Izuku could tell she wanted him to figure it out. The yellow eyes carried an unspoken challenge, daring him to discover it without her help.

She shrugged, brushing him off, and plopped down next to her bag, pulling out a small, well worn manga. "Well, there's your training! Let's hang out tomorrow, Izu-kun!"

Izuku opened his mouth to speak, to ask for a hint, or how this was training, or… _or something_. But he closed his mouth, seeing that questions wouldn't help. Her smile, thin and teasing, told him that much. She wasn't to tell him anything until he figured it out himself. In a way, he was thankful that she wasn't telling him. This was a test, his first step to becoming a hero.

And he wanted to pass it on his own.

"Y-yeah, see you tomorrow, I guess…" He waved weakly, quiet but with an undeniable steel in his eyes. The gears in his head were already twisting, trying to realign and solve the question. He had a goal now, even if was just a single question to solve. Toga cheerfully waved back, before pointing at her own neck, licking her lips.

"Make sure to clean up before you go home, Izu-kuuun!"

Clean up? What did she mean-?

He raised a hand to his neck, and it came back red and sticky. Oh.

Oh yeah.

The girl in the 7/11 had given him quite the shocked look when he bashfully asked if he could use the sink.

)ooOoo(

_Investigative Notes, not to be used in a court of law - Recorded 27/4_

_Suspect: appeared to be female. Possibly quite young. Vision confirms weapon was a knife; type unclear._

_Circumstances not entirely clear; from suspect's wording it appears the victim was lured into a trap._

_Suspect reference a female friend whom she had also attacked in a similar manner; search records for homicide cases committed by a female in the Osaka area. Precedence given to cases involving a knife as the suspect's weapon and noted consumption of blood in the repor-_

"Here ya go." The Augur's pen jerked to a stop, his concentration shattered by his rather loud companion setting a mug of coffee on his wooden desk. He glared at her, hunched over his notepad, but she only cooly smiled back. "You know, it's getting late."

He quirked an eyebrow, and glanced up at the clock. 8:43. "And yet you give me a coffee?"

"Hm." Tsuruko grunted in surprise, leaned on his desk as she raised her own coffee to her lips.

"What?" The Augur leaned his head back, and opened his throat, throwing the bitter drink past his lip like a college student might take shots. He hadn't partied like that in years, but it was a useful skill for downing caffeine.

"Nothin'." Tsuruko set her mug down, and began sifting through a manila folder. "I was just expecting you to say something like 'I work better at night, less people to deal with,' or 'shouldn't you already be gone?'" She dropped her voice, attempting, and failing, to imitate her boss's gravelly, bored voice. Instead, it came out sounding like a child trying to seem far older than they actually were.

The Augur made a sound halfway between a grunt and a chuckle. "Do you want me to shoo you off? I still can, and you're rather annoying." His voice was dry and impersonal as ever, but a smile played at the edges of his lips.

She laughed tiredly. "Nah, I'm good. Today's already been too long to deal with another lecture.

"Oh? What happened to little miss 'ball of energy?'" He pushed his notepad aside, looking over various reports across his desk. The entire goddamn Amazon must've been cut down to make all this paperwork, but there still wasn't enough information for any leads other than the info he saw in his vision. Not that it could be used in court, either way.

"Went to go pick up our stuff from forensics."

The Augur took a deep breath, and sighed, already knowing what she meant. "Iwatani?"

"Yep."

"What was it this time?"

Tsuruko groaned, though the Augur had the self control to maintain his silence. "'Why are you even here? You guys are wasting my time. Just get a hero on they case, they'll actually be able to solve it." She spoke in an annoying, nasally voice, and the Augur had to admit it was rather accurate. Tsuruko could probably imitate Iwatani well enough to trick the man's co-workers.

"Did you at least get anything useful out of him?" He glanced at the manila folder in Tsuruko's hands.

"After the obligatory lecture on how useless our profession is? Yeah." She plucked a few sheets out of the folder, and passed them to her partner. "Here's the important stuff. That guy would've been fired ages ago if it wasn't for the fact that he can actually do his job."

"That's debatable." The Augur scowled, taking the sheets. He had to twist Iwatani's arm every time he wanted something done. The only reason they worked with him was that practically no one went into police forensics anymore. They all went to the hero agencies, not that the Augur could blame them; the pay here was abysmal.

"Either way, it's more information than we had before." She slapped the folder shut, and dropped it on the desk. "The victim's wallet was missing, but all of his official ID had been returned to the body, alongside a few membership cards. No bus pass or money, though."

"Fingerprints?"

"There were some on the ID that didn't match those of the body; they didn't match anything on record, though."

"So this person hasn't been arrested before." The Augur clicked his tongue, irritated. There was another lead, off the table.

"Oh, and about known criminals with Renfield's," Tsuruko groaned, pushing herself up. "We collected a list of all known diagnosed cases currently living in Japan."

"And?" The Augur looked up at her, hoping to finally get some good news.

"There's not a lot of 'em." Tsuruko scratched her jaw, looking at the wall clock as she tried to recall the details. "Only a little over a dozen. Most of them are men. There is a case of a woman from the Osaka Metro, but she's still locked up in Nagoya National Prison. Most of them are in prison, actually, though there are two undergoing rehab. One in Aomori City, another in Tokyo."

The Augur sighed, slouching back in his chair. Of course. He could already tell that he was going to have a lot more pointlessly late nights on this case.

Tsuruko glanced at him, and smirked. "I know that look."

"Really?" He didn't particularly like showing others how he felt, but this time, he let his irritation leak into his tone. "And what 'look' is this?"

"The sort that says you need to get a few good, cold beers." She clapped him on the back, and jerked her head towards the door, a relaxed grin on her face. More specifically, the type of relaxed grin that screamed of being far too tired to care anymore.

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head, but lifted himself out of his chair anyway. It's not like he'd get anything more done tonight; he'd just sit in the empty office, looking over the same old reports for a few hours. "Fine, just this once. But it's your job to remind me to turn in my investigative notes tomorrow.

"Yeah, yeah, sure." She brushed him off. "Let's go, before you change your mind."

"Don't tempt me. And for the record, I drink whiskey, not beer. Beer just tastes like alcoholic oatmeal."

"Man, what would I ever do without your pedigree and expertise, oh-wise-one?"

"Can it, kid."

**A/N: G'evenin', all. So, Izuku has his first scar, and the Augur decided to relieve some stress in a bar instead of the gym for once; how was the chapter? Call me a crowd pleaser, but I feel hearing your thoughts only makes this better. Not to mention, I personally love listening to your predictions. They're not always correct, but they are interesting. Next chapter is already on the way, so I'll get it out as soon as I reasonably can! Please feel free to review!**

**With only the worst of intentions,**

**Imp the Nefarious**

**Childish Guestino: Did this count as "dragging it on for a bit?" She only maimed him a little after all. And, on the matter of Himiko's backstory… you think I'm just going to have her say it? HA! No, I'm gonna make you guys suffer first. Himiko is actually the hardest for me to write, though, since her logic is so different from all the other characters. It's tough, so I just hope her dialogue and monologue all come out right.**

**Nonyaarb: Indeed I am. Is that a bad thing? I do worry about my pacing at times. But, more than anything, I want to make sure what he does **_**makes sense**_**, without breaking his characterization. And considering what I have planned for him… It'll take a bit.**

**Swertyuiop: A hell of a ride indeed; As you saw from this chapter, and the coming ones, he's not going to go unscathed. And honestly, I'm not sure how good Toga's lovin' is gonna be. He ain't gonna be jumping off a building any time soon, but he is going to be spending a significant amount of time with Little Ms. Hematophage.**


	7. Chapter 7

Izuku, in general, didn't think much about his classes.

It wasn't that he disliked them; No, the classes were perfectly fine. He just didn't particularly _like _them either. They just kind of 'were.' Sit at his desk, listen to his teacher talk for an hour as he took notes and sneak in the occasional glance at his phone. The teacher might ask the class a question, but the same three students always answered, and Izuku wasn't one of them. So he just kept his head low, careful to avoid bringing anyone's attention to him, and everything would be fine. So his classes were… fine.

He didn't like gym, though.

"Pass, pass!"

"Over here, man!"

Tennis shoes scraped against the blacktop, and the basketball flew through the air, traveling between Izuku's classmates. The early afternoon sun shined down on them, and a distinct breeze blew past them, carrying the oh-so-faint scent of seasalt, and the much more potent smells of car exhaust and sweat. Despite the sun, Izuku felt chilly, and extremely uncomfortable in his sports uniform. Pale and boney, he was a stressed out skeleton in baggy basketball shorts, and he was acutely aware of the difference between himself and people like Kacchan, who sported sturdy figures and lean muscles.

Just thinking about how much of a twig he was made him sigh, and cast a glance towards the ground. He kept moving with the crowd across the court, as though to at least pretend he was trying, but always made sure to stay just far enough away that it would be unreasonable to pass him the ball. Well, it kind of already was, considering how much of a Deku he was. Izuku chased the crowd of boys back to his own side of the court, where he just stayed out of his classmate's way as they tried to get the ball back.

"Over here, dumbass!" Kacchan's voice stood out from the others, due to a mix of both how uniquely gruff it was for a middle schooler, and how uniquely _angry_ he always sounded. "I'm gonna take a shot!"

"Bakugo, bro, we're on the wrong side of the court!" One of Kacchan's friends laughed, but passed it to the blonde anyway. "You seriously think you can do it?"

"You think I fuckin' can't?" Kacchan growled like a rabid dog, and sent his friend a murderous glare. "Don't you dare doubt me!"

"I ain't, I ain't-"

"Just watch!"

Izuku watched his friend, doubtful. He was strong, yeah, but he was also on the wrong side of the court and surrounded by the other team. He chewed on his lip, mentally taking notes.

Kacchan grinned viciously, a distinct and deadly level of concentration in his eyes. Even though he knew it wasn't directed at him, Izuku couldn't help but shrink back a bit, hiding at midcourt. The blonde wound his arm, as though preparing to throw a large, orange baseball, before pausing to gather his strength. He lobbed the ball with a single burst of explosive energy, his fingers sparking and propelling the ball forward, and up, and up…

And all the way to the other side of the court, into the net.

Cheers and swears broke out across the court, but Izuku couldn't help but let his jaw go slack, his wide eyes going back and forth between Kacchan and the ball.

"Bakugo!" A giant man yelled from several basketball courts away, nearly double Izuku's height and looking like an overweight gorilla shoved into a blue track three sized too small. "No quirks during P.E.! And fer the last time, work on yer form!"

"Ah, shut up, old man! I got it in, didn't I?" Kacchan flipped the man off, and several of the other students laughed like a pack of hyenas.

"I'm gonna talk to you after class, kid! And make sure to lose that attitude by then!" The coach shouted, pointing his clipboard at Kacchan and putting his hand on his hip. "Now keep playing!"

Kacchan snarled, but another student tossed a ball their direction, and the game continued. Just like before, Kacchan dominated the field, while Izuku avoiding the ball like the plague.

And really, Izuku already had too much to think about. He had never been good at basketball, and he wasn't going to get any better today anyway, so he instead put his effort into _looking _like he was playing, at least enough to not attract Coach Goya's attention, and let his mind ponder more serious issues. Specifically, the one that had left a long, thin scab on the left side of his neck.

He had felt people staring at it all day; after all, it wasn't exactly subtle, covered by a large bandage. Stretching from just below his jaw to right above his adam's apple, it could've killed him had she cut any deeper. And when he had gotten home yesterday, his neck wrapped in a bandage provided by a certain concerned 7/11 worker, Mom had gone into a full blown panic. He told her that he had just fallen on a sharp rock, but, as always, she saw through his lies. Not that it was a very good one in the first, even he had to admit. Guilt clawed at his stomach as he recalled the lie. But now she had a scheduled meeting with the principal, wanting to discuss exactly how his school dealt with bullying. He had begged her not to make a big deal about it, but when mama bear made a decision, that was that. He sighed, his tone tinted melancholy, as he watched the other students from inside his bottle. They were laughing, playing, having fun, and he was just… not. It wasn't their fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. Or, if it was, it was his own.

And besides, aside from his mom, he had another big issue, that only seemed bigger the more he thought about it. Specifically, who was Toga, and… why did she do that? The thought lingered at the back of his mind, sometimes peeking into the forefront just long enough to flip his stomach inside out and make his mouth go dry.

She said it was just training, but it didn't all add up, not really. The stabbing him part, he guessed he could understand. It forced him into a situation where he had to think differently than usual, at least. But when she drank his blood..?

He shivered, but it definitely wasn't from the wind.

There were two options. Either she didn't enjoy consuming blood, but was an amazing actor, and wanted to scare him half to death. If that's the case, she certainly succeeded. Or the other option: she did enjoy drinking it. The first situation didn't make a lot of sense, because she simply didn't _need _to drink his blood. It didn't achieve anything she hadn't achieve already, except for giving him an extremely disconcerting memory.

So, by process of elimination, it meant that she found pleasure in… _ingesting erythrocyte_. That was a good turn of phrase. Impersonal, scientific. It sounded far less terrifying than the other options.

But that was ignoring one huge variable, one that he just couldn't forget: her quirk. If her desire to suck his blood had some relation to her quirk, than the potential reasons were endless. Blood-related quirks, while not common, were far from rare, and there were even a few pro heroes that had them, like Vlad King and Blood Match.

So, should he really be so quick to draw conclusions? For all he knew, she could've just been aiming to help him with whatever her quirk might be. She'd never told him, so he simply had no way of knowing. He needed to ask her, for safety's sake. She might be particularly susceptible to things such as blood-borne illnesses, and he wasn't sure if he was carrying an-

"Deku!" Izuku was shocked out of his thoughts by Kacchan's angry shouting. "Pay attention, dammit!"

"Wha-?" The green hair boy jerked his head up at his friend's calling, only to barely catch the ball flying at his face.

What? Why did he have the ball? Why did they _give _him the ball? _No one ever gave him the ball!_

The entire group suddenly swarmed him, his previously empty spot at midcourt now filled to the brim with rollicking students.

"Pass it, man!"

"Over here!"

"Dude, I'm open!"

Uh, uh, n-now what? Who was on his team? And who was the most open? Who could get to the goal fastest and with the least resistance? He had no idea, but-

"Just pass the ball already!"

He didn't have time. The hoop! He could take a shot! That was the safest move. His gaze shot towards the hoop, trying to figure out how much power he'd need to throw the ball with.

What had Kacchan done earlier? He was on the total other side of the court, so if he did it right, it should work from this distance. He furrowed his eyebrows, recalling the images of what Kacchan did earlier, and mimicking it as perfectly as he could. Lean back, focus the power into that one throw, and…

Release!

The ball went flying! But… it was nowhere near the hoop. A few meters off, both coming up short and going too far left. It bounced, and then went out of bounds. He felt his stomach drop, a bowl filling with liquid dread.

"What the hell was that?" Kacchan pushed his way past the other students, his eyes smoldering coals. "I _said _pass!"

Some of the other students looked on, some confused by Izuku's 'pass,' others amused by the scene in front of them. God, he could feel them watching. He could feel their judging eyes, mercilessly burning into him as they contained their laughter to small, impish smiles.

Izuku's face was on fire. "Well, I, uh, I thought I could-"

"You could what?" Kacchan cut him off, getting in his face. He grit his teeth, preparing to spew out more insults, before just rolling his eyes and backing off. "Forget it. You're always like this. Fuckin' Deku."

'Fucking deku?' 'Deku this, deku that!' Yeah, so what if he was a deku? Izuku's muscles tensed, and he squeezed his fists until his knuckles went white. Kacchan never passed to anyone, did he? No, he would just throw it from the other side of the court, just to prove how much better than he was than everyone else. Yeah, Izuku understood, he was a deku and Kacchan was a hero in the making. But… but it made him so _angry_! What right did Kacchan have to treat him this way? What right did he have to treat _anyone _that way?

A pair of yellow eyes flashed in his mind, hungry and feline.

_You need to become a wolf!_

"Y-" Izuku spoke up, weak but sharp, like a blade of razor grass. "You're always like this too, you know! Always thinking you can push people around!"

Kacchan paused, and looked over his shoulder, glowering at the boy. "What did you say?"

The fire in Izuku's belly had a tub of ice water poured over it, and his hands started shaking. He shrunk under the blonde's fiery glare, a snail attempting to hide from a hawk by curling up in its shell. Oh god, why did he say that? He should've just kept quiet! He should've just kept his head down! It didn't matter what Toga said, neither puppies nor wolves could survive a firestorm.

"I, uh, well-"

"I said, what the _fuck _did you just say?" Kacchan popped his knuckles, his palms sparking and his teeth bared.

Izuku's mouth tasted sick and bitter, and his eyes refused to look at anything other than the blacktop. "... N-nothing…"

"Better be." Kacchan sneered, and turned away, stalking towards the other students. A few of the other joined him, laughing and rolling their eyes.

"Dude, ya don't need to be so harsh; you know he can't do jack shit."

"Yeah, he's just a deku. Don't get so worked up."

"But seriously, who passed 'em the ball? That was pretty stupid."

Izuku listened, frozen in place and shaking. He wasn't a wolf. He _couldn't _be a wolf. His breathing was shaky, and he could feel tears rising, burning his eyes. What had he been thinking? He couldn't stand up to anyone with a quirk, let alone someone like Kacchan. He choked back a whimper, and stormed off the court. He didn't know where he was going. Just 'away.' Somewhere where they weren't laughing at him, where he hadn't been an idiot in front of the entire class.

Eventually, he just sat in the shade, nestled into a ball between a bush and the chain link fence at the edge of the basketball courts. He could hear the other students' shouts and cheers, but he didn't watch. He didn't want to. He didn't want to see them doing what he knew he couldn't. So instead, he focused on the dead, half rotted leaves left over from winter.

He was bound to be less than worthless as a hero. Just look at the difference between him and Kacchan. Even when he was closer to the goal, even when he copied the boy as best as he could, he still couldn't do it. That really all he was, wasn't it? A poor imitation. Everyone else knew it, and treated him how an imitation deserved. Toga would probably only toy with him for a few weeks, before getting bored and casting him aside. It only made sense. After all, what was there in him that she _could _like? There were bound to be a dozen other, better versions of him out there, ones with quirks, ones who could help people. Ones Toga's training could actually help. After all, he couldn't even figure out the answer to Toga's question, even after thinking about it all day.

He wanted to cry so much, the salty tears burning the insides of his eyes, but they just wouldn't leave. The thoughts wouldn't leave either, circling again and again in his head. The bell rang at one point, signalling the end of the period, but Izuku didn't move. What was the point of going to the next class? It be the same, whether he was there or not. The same three students would answer every question. The teacher would drone on, lecturing with the enthusiasm of a dead fish. And even if he went, he'd just be a shadow sitting behind a desk, praying not to be noticed.

Should he have not stepped away from that ledge? Saved everyone the trouble? He still could, really. He could write another note, and maybe it could actually be a bit organized this time. The last one was a mess. His heart throbbed with a dull pain, an open wound inside his chest.

Izuku groaned, and pushed himself up, stretching his stiff muscles. They felt like hydraulic pistons that hadn't been used in years, every movement requiring concerted effort. He didn't want to go to class. There wasn't any point, not really. None of them had even noticed he wasn't there. Or, if they had, they apparently didn't care enough to look for him. A weary scowl came to his face as he started walking towards the gate, past the basketball courts.

Should he really be surprised? He wasn't important to them. Izuku was the class clown. Wait, no, not the class clown. That made it sound like he was trying his hardest to make everyone laugh. He choked back a broken sob, and wiped the snot from his nose. No, he wasn't the clown. He was the seal, a creature of the sea shoved onto the land and forced to do tricks it didn't understand. Balance a ball on his nose, clap his fins, and just pray not to be whipped.

He was just bad entertainment, no matter what Toga said. One homeless girl's voice was not enough to stave off the cacophony that was everyone else's laughter.

He paused, looking at one of the basketballs still on the blacktop. No one had put it away, probably. Izuku sighed, and shook his head. At who? Himself? The person who forgot to put it away? It didn't really matter, he supposed. It was just a useless action by a worthless boy as he cried about his pointless dreams.

He scooped up the ball, ready to put it away, but paused for a moment, just to look at the basketball hoop.

Maybe, just once more..?

Izuku carefully retraced his steps, each one measured and deliberate as he triangulated where he had been earlier. Here? No, another step to the left. A bit forward, too. He closed his eyes, and leaned his head back, trying to recall the exact feeling of his stance. Spread his feet, and focus on the goal.

What were his issues last time? One: too little power. It fell a few meters short of the goal. Two: It went too far left. It made sense; he was right handed, and so the spin on the ball, alongside his poor aim, meant that he wouldn't have scored, even if he had put in more power.

The scientist in him considered these points, and adjusted to compensate. A few aim a few degrees to the right; use more strength. Trial one of… well, however many it took. He shifted his weight, and threw the ball with all the strength he could muster.

And it missed the goal completely.

Trial two.

Three.

Four.

Every time, it was the same result. His aim was getting better, but he simply wasn't able to gather enough strength to throw the ball far enough. He was just bashing his head against a wall, not getting anywhere.

He scowled, and bit his lip. It didn't make any sense, now that he thought about it. While Kacchan certainly had more muscle mass than Izuku, it just couldn't be enough to compensate for throwing the ball from the other side of the court. The amount of control and strength to aim the ball and have it fly in a proper parabola just couldn't be garnered from one arm. Izuku fiddled with the ball, tossing it into the air and catching it again as he considered the quandary. How had Kacchan dealt with it?

Suddenly, the image of the boy's sparking palm came to mind.

His quirk.

Of course.

How had he forgotten about a factor so simple? Izuku clicked his tongue, and internally chided himself. He had even seen Kacchan do it before, using his combustive powers to both guarantee his place as the class's best pitcher, and drive Coach Goya mad. It was such a small burst of energy, barely comparable to the boy's more violent moments, but it had to have provided just the boost needed to reach the hoop.

In many ways, Izuku was impressed by his friend yet again; Kacchan not only was powerful, but had such adept control of his quirk that he could implement it in clever, and subtle ways like this. But another part of him realized he had hit a roadblock, that being he didn't have Kacchan quirk. He clenched his fist, and leered at the ball, as though it was the rubber thing's fault.

Simply put, no matter how perfectly he mimicked Kacchan's form, he would never be able to catch up.

It was always like this, wasn't it? _Always_. He could run himself ragged, but Kacchan would always be a dozen paces ahead of him. He was weak, and no matter how hard he worked, there was nothing he could do about it. He was inferior. It was that simple. He grit his teeth, and let slip a guttural growl, the sound of a lonely wolf on a dark, winter night.

Izuku hated it.

He hated how pointless his struggling was.

How useless his suffering was.

How unfair the world was.

Izuku glared at the hoop, and his grip on the ball tightened. No matter what he did, he could never become a hero. He just couldn't. Because no matter how much he trained, how much he studied, _how much_ _he ran himself to exhaustion, _he simply could not do what they did. They had a quirk, and he did not. He couldn't replicate them_,_ because he just didn't have the same tools at his disposal.

And then it clicked.

_You're stuck thinking about it from the perspective of a hero._

It was such a simple realization, he felt stupid for not understanding it before. He had been trying for almost fifteen years, but it took him a crazy girl with a knife to understand.

He couldn't be a pro hero, not like the others at least. Because the foundation for them becoming a hero was, at its most bear, them exploiting their quirk to do things that others couldn't. So if he was always trying to copy them, despite being quirkless….

No wonder the entire structure imploded on itself.

He stared at nothing, almost in shock from the idea. He didn't need to train his body and try to play catch up; it simply wouldn't work. They were all stronger and faster, and nothing he could do would change that. He needed to hone the tools he had that they don't.

The tools that were uniquely his, that no one else could copy or steal.

And all he had was his mind.

)ooOoo(

Thirty-two.

It took him until trial number thirty-two. But he had done it.

And then he kept doing it. He changed his position on the court, distance from the hoop, spin on the ball, and form, nailing it down to a science. It wasn't until the last bell rang that he realized he had been on the court for three hours, running test after test to determine exactly what he needed to do.

Izuku knew it was just a game. He knew he had skipped class, and he'd have to face the consequences. He knew that he was just learning what the others had known for years.

But that didn't do anything to dissuade the determined smile on his face. It was infectious, really, and not a conscious choice. He might have been doing something easy, but he did it.

And he did it on his own.

He snatched his bag off of his desk, hightailing it out of his classroom before the teacher could stop him, and speed walked down the hallway, attempting to hide the stupidly wide smile on his face with his books.

Head down, no eye contact, stick to the sides of the hallways. Behaviour that had been drilled into him for years, strategies to stay a grayman. But even doing all of that, he was positively glowing, an odd mix of giddy join tempered by stern satisfaction flowing through his veins. He slipped past the crowd of students, and rushed out of the schoolyard gates, buzzing with newfound energy.

He couldn't wait to tell Toga! Would she be just as excited? He figured out the answer to her question, after all. But what if he got it wrong? It made sense, but perhaps, just like before, his logic is inherently flawed. He couldn't be certain; any level of thoughtless confidence would only lead to him failing.

Despite these thoughts, Izuku couldn't wipe the smile from his face. Even if he was wrong… At least he was getting there. He had always felt trapped, suspended in a vacuum as he watched the world change around him. But now, the bottle that he had always been trapped in… It had a crack in it.

In the past few hours, the sky had become cloudy, draping the world in shades of pale white and blue. But Izuku didn't mind, not really. He appreciated a bit of a cool wind, actually. It carried the crisp scents of pollen and grass, not to mention was heavy with gathering humidity. After so many warm, sunny days in a row, a chilly afternoon just felt right. It made him think of rainy spring days where he'd play inside, saving Mom from countless villains and disasters. His smile became softer at that, a colored with heartfelt fondness rather than pride and satisfaction.

"Ooh, I like that smile!" Toga popped her head out from behind the school gate, and Izuku barely stifled a scream. "Why're you so happy?'

"O-oh, Toga…" Izuku wheezed, clutching his heart. "Please don't scare me like that…"

"Oopsy!" Toga smiled gleefully, not sorry in the least. "I just saw you, and couldn't contain myself! So, what'dya do today?"

"Well, I, uh, I think I figured it out." Izuku attempted to calm himself, but his rising blush did little to help. He sped past the girl, his arms and legs stiff, in a desperate effort to hide his cherry-colored face. "T-the answer to your question, that is!"

"Oh, really?" Toga quickly caught up to Izuku, falling into her habitual movements of circling around him. A lovesick blush spread across her face, and Izuku's heart skipped a beat.

That blush.

It was just like yesterday.

Just like when she had the knife to his throat.

His stomach felt like it had just been thoroughly churred up, and whoever did it threw in a few pills of alka seltzer just to be safe. A complicated, chaotic mix of fear and… excitement? He shook his head, and averted his eyes away from the blonde. That couldn't be right. _Shouldn't _be right. But it was still there, a sickly-sweet feeling that refused to let go.

"So, so, tell me," Toga spun around the green-haired boy, playfully twirling a set of earbuds around her finger as she watched him with a curious, feline gaze. "What's the answer?"

"Oh, well…" They made their way down the street, populated by passing students, and Izuku pushed his other thoughts out of his mind. Focus! Just focus on your training! And stop with the… weird thoughts. He was just going to call it that. "I think what you meant was, and, uh, tell me if I'm wrong… The reason I'm having issues is because I'm trying to copy what other heroes are doing, rather than, well…"

"... Be yourself!" Toga completed his sentence for him, and bumped shoulders with him, her face bright red. "It's hard to be someone else, you know? And doing that just doesn't fit you!" She casted a glace in front of them, spotting the 7/11 from yesterday, and looked back towards Izuku. "Wanna get a snack?"

"Again? I, uh, I guess so." Izuku nodded, and followed her into the convenience store. The girl sat behind the counter, and glanced up at them, before giving Izuku a sheepish smile.

It almost seemed like a rerun of yesterday; Toga snarfed down another plum popsicle, while Izuku quietly nibbled on a candy bar, watching out the window. The cherry trees shifted in the wind, their limbs clacking together, and the occasional car drove past, bound for some unknown destination. But Izuku focused on the students, his eyes following the boys and girls in black uniforms as they made their way home. He saw a group of three, laughing and chatting as they passed by, and he felt his heart ache.

"Are you jealous of them?" Toga's sickly yellow eyes watched him closely, her childish smile an odd compliment to the analytical light in her eyes. Her gaze was locked on him, a camera recording.

Izuku frowned, and looked away. "Well… no, I don't think." That was a lie. He knew it was a lie. But it wasn't his place to force his issues on Toga, was it?

"I am."

Izuku's head shot up, just to see the girl staring wistfully out the window. It was… an odd expression to see. It didn't seem natural. No, that wasn't right. It just seemed… jarring. It was like seeing a tropical bird shivering in the frigid cold of the arctic.

"Why?" A simple question, but the only thing that seemed right to say.

Toga brought a finger to her chin, and took a moment to collect her words as her eyes wandered. But then, she just smiled, but it was plastic and fake. "The same reason as you, I think."

… What did that mean? Izuku stared at her, trying to scrape up any hints as to her meaning, but the her smiling mask wiped away even the barest trace of her true meaning. He opened his mouth to prod for more information, but she beat him to the punch.

"So, since you figured out your homework…" She shoved her hand into a cardigan pocket, rummaging around for something and changing the topic with the subtlety of a three-legged cat covered in cowbells. "I wanted to give you a present!"

"A present?" Izuku cocked his head, but leaned forward, curious.

"Mm-hm!" She nodded her head excitedly, almost like a child. "A gift for little Izu-kun! To help your training!" She pulled out a thin cardboard box, and shoved it into his hands.

Izuku peered at the box for a moment, as though it were some sort of prank, and glanced between the gift and the giver. Just longer than his hand, it was surprisingly heavy, and wrapped with a bright pink bow that seemed wholly out of place wrapped around the dull brown cardboard. He gingerly shifted it around, uncertain of its nature, and felt the distinct heat of Toga's gaze lingering over him. Why did she get him a gift? He glanced up to find Toga smiling, enthusiastically watching.

"Come on, open it, open it!"

"Oh, uh, s-sure…" Izuku's mouth refused to function properly, nervousness and embarrassment fusing together into one tense, face-reddening emotion. He carefully tugged at the bow, disarming a bomb, and slid open the cardboard cover to reveal the box's contents.

First, he was mildly confused. He plucked the gift out of the box, shifting the cool metal object around his palm. A handle? There was a button, actually. He pressed it, and almost dropped it as long, thin blade sprung from the black handle.

"Wait, a-a knife?" He held it as though it might bite him, his shocked eyes travelling between the razor-like blade and the cat-like girl. Even he knew it was a stupid question, but what else was he supposed to say?

"Uh-huh!" Toga gave a wolfish smile, and leaned forward, resting her head in her hands. "I thought it could match mine! Kinda like how friends get matching phone decorations, you know?"

"Yeah, but…" Did friends do that? Izuku stared at the blade, his expression coated with layers of worry and uncertainty. They did, probably. He thought he had seen it in TV shows once or twice, but he honestly had no idea. And he was pretty certain that, even if that was normal, having matching _knives_ was not.

Then again…

He fiddled with the knife a bit more, adjusting his grip until the handle fit comfortably in his hand, and looked at the blond, makeup-doused girl in front of him. This girl had attacked him in a back alley, drank his blood, and was almost certainly homeless. Did the standards of normality even apply to her?

And…

… Looking into her yellow eyes, the way they sparkled as she watched him, the way his heart skipped a beat when she smiled…

… Did the standards of normality even matter?

**A/N: Evening, all! So, I hope that, after SEVEN chapters, this plot is finally tightening up. Kinda. Hopefully, from this point the number of chapters consisting of people talking and being depressed will go down. Maybe throw in a training montague or two, though you guys will have to do that, cause I DO NOT have the budget. Regardless, I'll try and get the next chapter out soon!**

**(Question: I've noticed a lot of people do the "such-and-such series does not belong to me" thing, but… Do I need to bother? Like, I'm writing in english on a fanfiction site, do I look like Kohei Horikoshi?)**

**With only the worst of intentions,**

**Imp the Nefarious**

**ChildishGuestino: I apologize to neglecting to describe Augur! I'll be certain to the next time he appears!**

**Healthcare: That's a good song; I approve of this selection of song as ambient sound while reading that chapter. Actually, it might be cool to tell you an accompanying song for every scene I write. Maybe through in some 30's style techno-jazz for scenes involving the Augur, or something. About Toga, she wouldn't live in a knife factory for the knives; she can proudly say that all of her knives are, in fact, 100% organic. Now it's up for you to figure out what that means. And, good to know the technical stuff is coming out well! Thanks!**

**Lovelydragonfly: *new yorker accent* I'm workin' on it, ok buddy? Sheesh. But, don't worry, I'm getting there! It'll just take a bit until the two break each other in. **

**Sewrtyuiop: Ah yes, his first "love mark;" little Izu-kun just lost knife virginity. Well, kinda; it was only foreplay, really. And, ooh boy, will Izuku learn how unhinged she is; that's gonna be the fun part. Look forward to it.**

**Some Asshole: Ok, so whenever I get a review, FFN emails me the message; I just learned that these emails can be cut off if the message is too long. *chuckles* But, in all honesty, reviews like this feel great to read. After all, it means someone cares enough about this to think about what will happen! However, as cruel as this may be, I will not tell you which are right and which are wrong; I gotta keep ya guessin' after all! I will just say this one thing: Augur and Tsuruko are not, at any point, going to have a romantic relationship. Sorry to crush that ship right out of the port. But, Augur is in his late 40's, and Tsuruko, who is in her mid 20's, is essentially a daughter to him. This isn't content to be covered in my story, but the Augur is essentially a fatherly figure and close friend, to such a point that he's unable to even really see her in a sexual or "womanly" light. **


	8. Chapter 8

_"I looked up your mom the other day."_

_Himiko perked up, looking up from her math homework as a huge smile spread across her face. "You did? Isn't she super cute? And so cool too-"_

"_She's totally a freak." Aimi interrupted her friend, a bubbly giggle slipping past her lips. "I guess we know where you got it!"_

_Himiko's smile fell, oh-so-slightly, but she forced herself to laugh along. She swallowed the syrup, disgustingly sweet, and tried to ignore the taste. Just smile. Just smile and laugh. This is what friends do. "Mm-hm! I'm just like her, you know!"_

"_By the way," Aimi pushed her pink, sticker-covered workbook towards Himiko, along with a pen. "Can you solve these problems for me? It would be super nice of you!"_

"_Sure!" Himiko answered with a smile, but was careful not to show her teeth. Aimi didn't like her teeth. She said they didn't look cute._

"_Thank yooou!" Aimi petted Himiko, almost like a dog, before letting down her own dyed blond hair and combing it. Himiko watched the girl for a moment, a blush spreading across her cheeks, before setting to work on the problems. _

_Aimi was such a pretty girl. Himiko was jealous, really. Curly blond hair, long pink fingernails, perfect eyeshadow and contour. Not to mention her cute outfit, a cardigan tied around her waist and a girlish pink bow in her hair._

_She wished she could be like Aimi. But her hair was thin and stringy, and she didn't know how to paint her nails. They always came out messy and splattered. And no matter what she did, her makeup would never look as good as Aimi's. She wished she could be just like her friend. Look like her. Talk like her. Be popular like her._

"_Oh, Aimi-chan, look what I made!" Himiko pulled out a crumpled piece of paper out of her cardigan, and passed across the table to her friend. _

"_A poem?" Aimi quirked an eyebrow, frowning softly as she continued to bush her long hair._

"_Yep! I thought you'd like it!" Himiko tugged at her sleeves, unable to keep still. She had actually written it for Aimi, but she couldn't say that! That would be too embarrassing!_

"_Well…" Aimi looked it over for a moment, her bored expression unchanged. "It would be better if you did it like this, I think." She plucked up a pen, beginning to scribble over Himiko's chicken scratch with her own graceful characters._

"_... Ok…." Himiko watched nervously as her friend rewrote her poem. Himiko might've written it, but… it had been written for Aimi, so this was ok, right? And even Himiko knew her poetry was awful, so..._

_Math was easy, Himiko had found. Her math and science classes came naturally to her, from biology and chemistry to algebra and trigonometry. She loved studying them! Spending time with her nose in a biology textbook, unravelling the mysteries of the human body, it felt like home. More of a home than anywhere else, at least._

_But Aimi had told her that biology wasn't cute. The diagrams were gross, and the words were hard. And Aimi was super cute, and really popular, so… She had to be right, right?_

_So instead, Himiko tried to write poetry. Aimi loved writing poetry, and Himiko thought she might be cuter is she wrote poetry too. But she was no good with words. Her handwriting was messy, her prose was awkward, and the poems didn't make any sense… That's what Aimi said, at least. And Himiko knew she still had a lot to learn if she wanted to become popular. If she wanted to be like Aimi._

_So the freak continued on, struggling to resist temptation._

)ooOoo(

"And today, in breaking news," The newscaster on the Augur's screen, with one horn and salt-and-pepper hair, readjusted his glasses and looked at the papers in front of him. "Yet another terrorist cell was found, this time in Fukuoka. The investigation was headed by the Fukuoka Heroes' Alliance, along with assistance from local police forces, and uncovered a plot by the group to bomb a local train station."

The Augur quirked an eyebrow, but didn't look up from his paperwork. More terrorists? They all seemed to appear in Kyushu too, which only piqued his interest more. He slipped a pen out of his coal-colored suit jacket, and continued to mark up a sheet on a recent case.

The newscaster continued. "Though no group has taken responsibility, the FHA's spokesperson has publicly stated that it was an anti-hero cell."

The Augur held back a groan, and cast a glance towards his laptop. A euphemism, of course. Anti-hero was such a quaint term, wasn't it? The Augur had never, and would never, agree with the barbarous ideology, but even he knew it was more than just 'anti-heroism.'

"I think we can all agree that this is, in fact, just part of a much larger trend." The female newscaster spoke up, undoubtedly at the insistence of a teleprompter. "The number of quirkless terrorist cells has increased in the past few years, even as other forms of crime have steadily declined. So, what have heroes been doing to fight this threat to public safet-"

Ah, there was what they really meant. The Augur sneered, and clicked off the television. She didn't even go through the effort of hiding it with a dog whistle.

He felt a pang of sympathy for the investigative department in Fukuoka; a few more cases like this handled by the FHA, and they'd undoubtably be downsized yet again. Last time he checked, they only had six investigators, not including the forensics and legal teams. It was pitiful, and not nearly enough to keep up with the crime in a city _half _the size of Fukuoka. He wasn't particularly close with anyone there, but he had worked with them before. They work good investigators, got the job done.

Well, so long as the heroes didn't stop them from getting involved.

The Augur sighed, a tired sound, and scratched at his thick stubble. He needed to trim it, didn't he? The short beard he normally kept seemed hopelessly overgrown with all the stubble he didn't want. Then again, when wasn't he a mess? His charcoal hair had grown just long enough to become a knotted, curly mess, and his suit was crumpled and unironed. With a sharp jawline and a naturally lean figure, he could look quite dashing, but his time in the Criminal Affairs Bureau had led his hygiene standards to only exist insofar as to prevent illness and body odor.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, and took a long sip of his coffee. He had a headache, though he wasn't sure if it was due to the lack of sleep, the copious amounts of coffee he drank to deal with the lack of sleep, or the fact that it was office hours and his cubicle blocked out his coworkers' voices about as well as a piece of tissue paper. God, he hated office hours. Too many people, too loud, too hard to focus. But that was life, and he just had to deal with it.

"Hey Shou," There was a knock at the entrance to his cubicle, and the man turned to find Tsuruko standing there, a bundle of papers in one hand and a metal water bottle in the other. She jerked her head towards the exit of the cubicle area. "Come on. We gotta meeting."

The Augur sighed, disappointed that his throbbing headache had yet to dissipate, and nodded, setting down his coffee. "Sure, I'll be there in a moment." He scooped up his paperwork, and joined her on the way to the meeting.

"So what's so important that they'd invite me?" The Augur fiddled with a pen as the two walked, but his eyes were locked on the path in front of him.

"Not sure, but boss said it's important. Don't really know what his standards of 'important' are, though, considering how he reacted to someone breaking the coffee machine." Tsuruko snickered at the thought, but the Augur just rolled his eyes at the memory of _that _half hour lecture.

"Anything else of importance?" Sadly, the Augur was unlikely to escape, as much as he wished he could. Any further efforts to slip away were likely be met with near-lethal force by his coworker, and he didn't have the energy for that.

"Oh, remember the notes you took on the Osaka Slasher case?" She reached into the bundle of papers she was holding under her arm, and extracted a small packet. "About unresolved cases in the Osaka area?"

The Augur scowled, but nodded. "It's not called 'the Osaka Slasher.' We're investigators, not reporters."

"Yeah, yeah, sure. 'Case number 907735' is real easy to say, really rolls off the tongue." Tsuruko smirked, but her expression soon shifted to a more serious one. "But, anyways, I narrowed it down to this one. There are a few other potential cases, but this one has the most overlapping factors." She passed him the paper, and smiled, satisfied with her work.

The Augur raised his heavy eyebrows, surprised. It had only been two weeks, and she already nailed this down? Color him impressed. But looking at that cocky smirk on her face…

"... Thanks." His voice was dry and subdued, not betraying an ounce of thankfulness.

"You're awful at showing appreciation, you know that?" The smile on Tsuruko's face stayed the same, but the one in her eyes died, giving her a dry, cynical look that the Augur took pride in knowing came from him.

"I can't let you get a big head just for doing your job. Gotta teach you the right mentality." They reached the meeting room, and the Augur cracked open the door.

Tsuruko made a sound halfway between a grunt and cackle. "Which, should I follow your example, is avoiding people, staying up until early in the morning punching a bag of sand, and drinking more coffee than all your coworkers combined?"

The Augur grinned in such a way that only family wouldn't perceive as a grimace. "Indeed. Work on going to the gym, and then we can talk about me showing appreciation."

Tsuruko shook her head, but kept her sardonic smile. "Come on, the meeting's starting." The Augur nodded, and turned his attention to the meeting.

The conference room was was large, or at least larger than every other room in the office area, but all that space was squandered by the fact that nearly everyone in the investigative subdepartment was shoved in. The table had space for ten; there were currently over two dozen crammed into the room. The Augur grumbled, but squeezed past the door, quickly making his way to the corner on the other side of the room. Thank the lord he was taller than average; perhaps he wouldn't ever tower above anyone like Toshinori, but he could peek over everyone from the back of the room, and that was enough for him.

A portly man who had somehow managed to wedge himself both into the crowd and into his skinny suit stood at the head of the table, preparing to speak. "Thank you everyone, for coming, and I first wanted to thank you for your hard work..."

The Augur simply tuned out, uninterested in the pleasantries. He already had a gut feeling what this was about; budget cuts were not so much of a 'constant threat' as they were 'regularly scheduled programming.' And, in all honesty, it was unlikely to apply to him. As head of the Special Investigations Squad, he was unlikely to be cut, and a budget cut to his squad was unlikely too; after all, what more could you cut from a department that couldn't even afford to restock on staples and pens? Cut any more, and he'd just be losing manpower. So onto more pressing topics…

He looked down at the report Tsuruko had passed him. A picture of a girl with stringy blond hair and yellow eyes was stapled to the top left corner, her name written across the top. It obviously wasn't a profile shot; it looked like whoever filed the case just cropped a family photo that had a decent angle on her face.

Let's see… Attempted homicide, and a missing person… specifically the suspect being the missing person. That matched up. It seemed that it occurred a few days before the first murder case, too. Apparently the suspect had fled her foster care center after attacking another child.

The Augur held back a heartbroken sigh. A murderous orphan. His eyes flickered towards Tsuruko. It wasn't the first time he had worked on a case involving a kid with underdeveloped emotions and an overdeveloped quirk. He flipped to the suspect's medical history.

No physical issues; apparently some scarring, but nothing other than that. And the quirk… Well, he knew he shouldn't judge people for having "villainous" quirks, but it at least explained a few things. But the mental issues… Jesus, that was a long list, and none of it was pleasant. It appeared the suspect had spent quite a bit of time in a room alone with a sofa and a shrink.

Depression. Self harm. Harming other students. Abusing animals. Poor performance in school. The list went on. The noted behaviors were… unnerving, to say the least. Don't let them within arm's length of anything sharp, to say the least. The Augur was afraid to see what went on inside that girl's head.

Fertile ground for Renfield's, though.

"... And for those reasons, I regret to announce that we will have to let many of you go in two weeks." The Augur glanced up from his documents, surprised in a less-than-pleasant manner. People were being cut?

The man forced a smile, but it did little to conceal the genuine regret in his voice. "While I'm afraid there's very little we can do for you, we have arranged for several hero agencies to send representatives before you leave. This should at least give you a chance to find work with them. Those of you who are… being let go of… will be informed personally later today."

The Augur scowled. His squad was already too small; just a half dozen, including himself and Tsuruko. Even if he lost just one member, it could double the time it took his team to solve the dozen cases they were working on. He had been focusing on the Osaka Slasher for the past few weeks, out of the hope that he could gather all of the necessary evidence, but if they had to downsize…

This did not bode well.

The meeting dispersed quickly, most barely speaking a sound. No one wanted to break the silence. The Augur appreciated it.

As he left the conference room, Tsuruko jerked her head, pulling him aside. She unscrewed her water bottle, and took a long sip, before holding it out to the Augur. He quirked an eyebrow, an unspoken question lingering.

Tsuruko shrugged. "I thought you could use some."

"Water?"

"Vodka."

The Augur studied the bottle with half-hearted suspicion, before letting out a long, tired sigh, and taking a swig.

"Damn right I could use it."

)ooOoo(

"Come on, one more!" Toga cheered him on, but that did little to ease the massive weight on Izuku's back. "You can do it!"

Just… oh god, his muscles burned… just one more..!

Biceps, please don't give out now!

Izuku growled, a pained expression on his face as he forced his shaking arms to follow through with the final push up.

Up… aaaand… dow-

His arms gave out under him, and his jaw met the pavement.

"Yay!" Toga leapt off his back, a huge grin on her face. "That was a new record, Izu-kun!" She quickly reached down and dragged him to his feet, not giving him even a single moment to rest his searing muscles or nurse his sore jaw.

Izuku sucked in a long breath of air, rubbing his chin, but smiled in spite of the pain. Or maybe because of it. He wasn't really sure, if he was perfectly honest.

What he was sure of, though…

"... A hundred Toga push ups!" The mossy-haired boy gave his companion a high five as she bounced up and down, possibly even more excited than he was. He took a moment to relish in the stillness, having finally finished his exercises, while Toga took a few steps back, a wide smile on her face and a sly sparkle in her eye.

"You won't rest that long, right?" She held her hands behind her back, and leaned forward in such a way that she was forced to look up at him. "I'm not thaaaat heavy, really."

"You, uh, you don't look like you'd give me a workout, at least." He averted his gaze, and laughed nervously. That sounded weird, come up with something to add! How do you respond to talking about a girl's weight? The gears in his tired mind groaned as they attempted to process the curveball of a situation. He forced a smile onto his blushing face. "You're heavier than you look, though!"

Wait.

_Wait no._

Toga pressed her lips together, as though trying to hold back a flood of words leaving her mouth.

Bad response! Quick, uh, say something to fix it! Change the topic or somethi-

The blonde burst out laughing, unable to contain the happy, high-pitched sound. She held up her hands, hiding her canines as she laughed, while Izuku's face felt so rosy red it might pop.

"I, uh, well, um, I-" He waved his hands in front of him, trying to somehow defect her laughter. "I-I'm sorry!"

She forced her mouth into a tight-lipped smirk, attempting to contain her laughter but doing little to hide the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Izuku could practically see the machinations forming in her mind, the endless plans. He tried to swallow his fear, but his mouth was far too dry for that.

"Well…" She drew the word out, as though considering exactly what cards to use before she revealed her hand. "I'll accept your apology, but only if you're willing to try something new today."

"Huh?" Izuku reached down, grabbing a small exercise towel off the ground and wiping the sweat off of his shoulders and chest.

"Today's lesson is going to be a biiiit different than usual! So make sure you're ready before we start!" Toga smiled coyly, leaving her companion with more questions than answers.

Izuku watched her for a moment, attempting to decipher her meaning, but he couldn't glean anything from her toxic yellow eyes.

Well, she wouldn't tell them until they started. He know that, at least. Over the past few weeks, Izuku had discovered quite a few things about Toga; Her favorite flavor was plum, her phone had nineteen phone decorations hanging from it, and knew the answer to each and every one of the questions on his biology homework. He had also found, however, that she also had the uncanny ability to easily sidestep answering any and every question she might not want to answer. It… well, it didn't make Izuku comfortable. But he could understand. Some people had things they didn't want to talk about, and he didn't have the right to force it out of her. And if he did try…

Toga was a stray cat, that was the best way he could put it. She popped into his life with no explanation, disappearing during the day and reappearing whenever she wanted to see him. And he had the very distinct feeling that, should he try to force _anything_ onto her, she would simply vanish into thin air.

They had only been together for three weeks, but the the potential of her leaving… He tried to ignore how much his heart stung at the thought.

He snagged his water bottle from the inside on the garage, and took a seat on the rusted out desk, throwing open his mouth and pouring the ice cold liquid down his throat.

Izuku had never really drank a lot of water; the stuff from the tap tasted vaguely of metal, and the stuff from the store was just as expensive as the soda. It was tasteless, so why not just get another drink?

But, at that moment, nothing would quench his thirst like water could. His exhausted brain existed in a slow-moving cloud of euphoria as the crisp liquid passed his lips. He drank half the bottle without coming up for air.

Every part of him hurt. Biceps, triceps, quads, gluts, abs; all of them burned with lactic acid. But it was the good type of hurt. It was the type that came with an intoxicating mix of adrenaline and testosterone, the type that let Izuku know he was working hard. He had been working almost all of his muscle groups daily, not to mention jogging in the morning. He knew it wasn't enough, not yet… But he was on his way. And he wouldn't let himself fail. With Toga in his corner of the ring, he was sure he could do it.

Speaking of Toga…

He felt her gaze burning into him, her yellow eyes tracing his thin frame. But he didn't need to look to know what she was staring at. She had developed… a habit of looking at his neck. A very specific part of it.

He drank some more of his water, this time in the form of a small, controlled sip, and ran his fingers across the left side of his neck. He could feel it, the small rift of skin that was slightly paler than the rest. It was hardly noticeable, but Izuku often found himself feeling for it when he had nothing else to do with his hands.

It was the scar from when Toga attacked him. The scar she had given him. Her mark.

His heart sped up at the thought, and he blushed, ashamed. He knew he shouldn't think of it that way. He knew he shouldn't get excited every time he saw her knife. It was wrong. And it was scary. But his mind simply would not listen to reason.

He shook his head, as though the movement would dislodge the ideas and toss them out. Just… just think of something else. His breath was slowly returning to normal, his chest having been heaving from the exercise.

What had Toga meant by 'a bit different?' She had taught him how to use a knife for self defence, though he wasn't the least bit good at it; the knife still felt far from comfortable in his palm, and he was far too slow and clumsy. Maybe she'd teach him another few movements, or switch up how he was using it? That would make some sense. A new technique would most certainly be different. His other training had come much easier to him; hiding was, sadly, his specialty. She still made him practice, but she seemed pleased with his natural aptitude for it.

"Are you ready?" Izuku was shaken out of his thoughts by a Toga who was thoroughly done with waiting. She casually lept on top of the desk, firmly placing her hands on his shoulders in playfully pushing him off. "Come on!"

"Wha-?" He stumbled off the desk, quickly regaining his footing on the stained concrete. "What is it?" Toga stepped off the desk, dropping down in front of him as she gracefully twirled her knife between her fingers.

Her knife.

Shimmering in the dull orange light of the late afternoon.

Passing between her fingers so casually and with so much control it seemed effortless.

His muscles tensed, but he dragged his gaze away from the blade. Slow down, heart. Please, please slow down…

"It's time for your lesson!" She smiled, making no effort to hide her canines, and a sparkle in her eyes. "I want you to cut my neck!"

…. Huh?

Izuku furrowed his eyebrows, trying to somehow translate her message into Japanese. She had said it as though it was completely self evident, but… what?

After a moment of silence, Toga's giggled. "You have to take out your knife, don't you know that?"

"Well, uh, yeah, but-" He rushed to grab his knife, fumbling as he took it out of his pocket, but paused before unsheathing it, glancing up at her. "But what do you mean?"

"Hm…" She trailed off, her eyes wandering as she searched for an answer. "Today is special. I've showed you self defense, but that won't help you very much when fighting villains! You'll just get worn down eventually, and then they can have all the fun they want snapping your bones!" She giggled, as though what she just said hadn't been one of the most terrifying things Izuku had heard come out of her mouth.

"So!" She held the edge of her blade against her throat, as though to give a visual guide. "Let's play a game! If you can cut my neck, than I have to get you a snack!"

Izuku stared at her, dumbfounded by her apparent priorities. "B-... but why your neck?" The gears in his head spun, attempting to realign with any form of logic that explained this situation.

"You're not going to beat me by stabbing me in the butt, are you? You have to go for the kill!" Toga giggled, shifting from one foot to the other as she failed to contain her boundless energy.

"Why am I trying to stab you at all?" They went from learning basic self defence to this? 'Ok, now that you know how to protect yourself, kill me!' It… it wasn't right. Heroes didn't stab people! They didn't attack, let alone kill! They protected and defended people, not whatever this was!

"Well…" Toga slowed, balancing on the back of her heels, and a knowing smile came to her face. She blinked, slow and lazy, as her toxic eyes lingered over him. "... Are you going to use a quirk instead?"

How did quirks relate to..?

… Oh.

"N-no…" He raked his mind, trying to think of something, _anything_, more intelligent to say, but came up empty-handed. He didn't have a quirk, and going unarmed was out of the question. Izuku didn't want to fight if it wasn't necessary, but he wasn't going to lie to himself and say he didn't need to be prepared for a battle. He wasn't going to lie to himself anymore. He had cracked the bottle, and he refused to seal himself back in it.

And she knew that. That's why she asked.

"Then you gotta use something else." She shrugged, weaving her blade between her fingers as she watched him. After a moment, however, a light frown spread across her face. "No one would sell me a gun to teach you with, though. It was soooo annoying!"

Izuku's gaze shot towards her, his green eyes wide. "You were trying to buy a gun?!"

"Yeah, but no one wanted to sell one to me. They said they don't like selling to 'kids.'" She pouted, as though her parents had simply refused to give her dessert. But she pushed aside her frown, and gave her signature sharp smile. "But knives are more fun anyway! So I got these!" She caught her knife's handle in her palm with relaxed ease, and pointed the tip of the blade at identical knife in Izuku's.

"Normal citizens aren't allowed to have guns!" Why on earth was she trying to buy a gun? It's illegal to have one at all, let alone as a minor! This wasn't America! And… And where had she even found a place selling them? Did she go to a black market? How do you even find a black market? "They're too dangerous!"

"A lot of things are dangerous." Toga cocked her head, seemingly unaffected by Izuku's panic. "Quirks are dangerous. How is this any different?"

"Only certified heroes can use their quirks!" His head spun as he tried to organize the reasons in his head. Of course normal people couldn't have weapons! They… they could be dangerous! And there were laws in place about quirk usage! If it was considered dangerous by the government, you had to be certified to use it! And you weren't allowed to use it most in public places!

But…

His mind wandered to Kacchan. His quirk was dangerous, wasn't it? He sweat nitroglycerin, after all, and that was nothing if not a public safety hazard. And yet, had anyone ever actually stopped Kacchan from using it?

How many times had Izuku been burnt by the boy, intentionally and with the sole goal of hurting him? How many times had the boy used it without restraint, breaking school rules, only to get a slap on the wrist or turned a blind eye? In some classes, Kacchan had even been encouraged, in direct defiance of school policy. No one had stopped Kacchan, or any of the others, from using their quirks whenever they wanted.

The rules were in the books, but no one ever bothered reading them.

Quirks were everything to some people; even for Izuku, when he was a kid. He remembered wishing and hoping that one day, he'd wake up with a cool quirk like Kacchan's. But now, Kacchan and so many others had amazing quirks, _dangerous quirks,_ and felt superior because of it. They were encouraged and admired, despite how much they bullied and pushed others around.

It...

It was _wrong_.

"Izu-kun…" Toga spoke softly, as though any louder might shatter the boy in front of her. "A hero's quirk is their weapon. When a villain attacks someone, a hero has to protect that person, even if it means hurting the villain. But you don't have a quirk. So what can you use to defend those who need it?"

Izuku stood in silence for a moment, not wanting to answer that question. Knives and guns weren't heroic. They were weapons, their only purpose being to harm people. But… But wasn't that what heroes had to do? Snipe used guns; countless heroes used sonic attacks and weapons that grew out of their body. Even All Might, the number one hero, was famous for his powerful punches. Izuku had seen them in action, and they were… _terrifying_. He didn't dare imagine being on the receiving end of one. Heroes hurt people, because… _because they had to. _

Izuku readjusted the knife in his hand, letting it slip more comfortably into the grooves of his palm.

"You can't be afraid of weapons. You can't be afraid of hurting people. Because, if a hero refuses to fight, people…" She spoke quietly, but firmly, with a level of seriousness that seemed totally alien to her. Her voice caught for a moment, but she forced the words out. "People will get hurt. And not in the good way."

Izuku struggled for a moment, but nodded. His jaw was clenched far too tight for him to say anything. He wasn't sure what would come out if he opened his mouth. So instead, he spread his feet, and flicked his knife open.

Toga cocked her head, surprised. But after a moment, her face split open with a large smile. It wasn't a pleasant smile. It was too wide, too sharp. A cannibal's smile. Just looking at the pearly daggers, seeing the hungry gleam in her rotten yellow eyes, Izuku's skin crawled. But seeing her like this… even as his breathing slowed, his heart only beat faster.

"That looks like Mr. Wolfy…" Toga licked her lips, and lept backwards, out of the garage.

To put distance between them.

To get out of slashing range.

Fine then. It seemed she wouldn't even say 'go.' But heroes never got warnings. Why should he?

Goal: land a hit on Toga's neck. His hand squeezed around the knife so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Go.

He charged at her, shoving his fear and hesitation out of his mind. That didn't matter. Ignore it. There was only Toga, and the blade in her hand.

He stabbed forward, aiming for her neck, but the sound of steel against steel rung through the air as she redirected his attack with her own blade. Her smile didn't budge, wide and teasing as she slipped under his arm with the lithe grace of a panther.

He growled, and spun on his heel, refusing to let the girl see his exposed back. If she got a chance to strike-

A sharp kick caught the back of his leg, and he just barely caught his footing before hitting the ground. He stumbled backwards, coughing. No! He tried to refocus-

Another slam to his chest, this one sending him to the ground. Metal struck stone as his knife clattered to the ground, and his chest heaved with labored breaths. Toga sat atop him, pinning him to the ground. Knife resting against his jugular. Legs wrapped around his chest. Her hot breath tickling his ear.

Just like before.

But unlike before, he didn't hesitate. She rolled off him, just barely dodging his fist, as she put a pace of distance between them. Izuku didn't spare a moment, snatching his knife up and staggering to his feet.

Stance; legs at shoulder width, head ducked low.

Blade; tip facing towards Toga, thumb held against the spine.

Eyes; narrowed, not daring to leave the girl in front of him.

She quickly regained her footing, and and began to circle around him with slow, measured steps. Izuku scowled, mossy green clashing with poisonous yellow as he held her stare.

Toga's eyes never left his, but Izuku knew she was looking for something. Her expression, a hungry smile and an excited blush, never wavered. After all, she was wearing a mask. A mask to hide her true intention, as she sought out an opportunity.

One Izuku had no intention of giving her. His heart throbbed against the inside of his rib cage, and his mouth was dry as a century-old skeleton in the Sahara.

But the point of the game wasn't to stop her from killing him; it was to hurt her.

… Putting it that way made his breathing catch. He didn't want to hurt anyone, let alone her. She was many things, a bit unhinged, a bit odd, but she was his friend. And he couldn't see his friend as a villain. He tightened his grip on the metal handle. Imagine if he _did _have to attack a villain...

The image of Toga's thin neck sliced open came to mind, fat swells of blood pumping out of her veins as sick, wet gurlges replaced what had been screams.

No! No, stop! How could he even think something like that? He banished the scene from his head, his lunch vying to meet the pavement.

Focus, Izuku! He… He would never do that. He'd never do anything that... villainous. He just had to focus!

"What's wrong, Izu-kuuun?" Toga's grin, feral and feline, spread wider. "Afraid to attack a _big, bad_ villain like me?" She snickered, but Izuku didn't fall for it.

The mask was still there.

She was just trying to distract him.

He grit his teeth, and furrowed his eyebrows. He didn't need to hurt her. He just needed to touch her neck.

She was faster than him; stronger too. She could strike, and then easily get out of range before he could hit back. He needed to pin her down. He needed a plan.

But how? He took a step back, and Toga took a step forward. How could he pin her, let alone without hurting her? A plan did come to mind, but… he had no idea if it would work.

Well, he wouldn't see until he did. And no one else was going to do it for him.

Trial number two, start.

He stumbled forward, caught his footing, and rushed towards her. Ducking his head and narrowing his shoulders, he aimed the tip of his blade at her gut. If she moved like before, then now she'll...

Sidestep to the left! Just as she started the movement, he stuck his leg out, tripping her as she tried to slip past him once again. He heard a yip as she tumbled to the ground, and he twisted, straddling her before she could slip away.

He had done it! Now he just needed to-

His eyes went wide as he saw the cold glint of steel coming at him. He threw up his hands to hide his face, squeezing his eyes shut, and-

Toga yelped, practically nothing more than a small '_eep!_', and a set of knives clattered to the ground, the sharp sound cutting through the still air.

Izuku's eyes shot open, and below him, Toga clutched her hand, blowing on it and hiding her palm. Her smile was gone, her gaze instead filled with shock and pain.

Izuku's stomach dropped like a stone.

He-

He had hurt her. He had hurt Toga.

No! Nononono! Izuku scrambled off of her, reached out to grab her hand. But he stopped himself, his hand caught in midair as his mind tried to make a decision.

"A-" Izuku stammered, his eyes darting between the girl's small hands and her pained expression. "Are you ok?"

She bit down on her lip, but nodded, and forced a smile. "I'm ok, Izu-kun! This isn't the first time, after all!"

His eyebrows furrowed in concern, but he let out a small sigh of relief. "Can… Can I see your hand? T-to make sure it's ok!" He tacked on that last part, completely unsure of what he was saying. He couldn't believe himself. He had gone too far. He had gotten caught up in the moment, and hurt the girl who only wanted to help. Shame welled up in his chest, a heavy, sickening feeling.

Toga dropped her smile, sucking in a sharp breath in pain, but turned over her hand nonetheless. Palm face up, she laid her hand on top of his.

Izuku gasped, his mind attempting to resolve the stark difference between the girl's pale skin and the thick red liquid that coated it. His hands shook, and Toga choked back a winter as he wiped the blood out of the cut.

"Ah, s-sorry!"

"It's… it's ok." She spoke softly, which only unnerved Izuku more.

The cut wasn't deep; it didn't look deep at least. But it was plenty long, the blade having sliced the entire way across her palm like warm butter. No, not just 'the blade.'

_His _blade.

_His _fault.

He glanced towards the two knives, easily able to tell which was his by the thin coating of blood. His throat tightened, and his eyes refused to leave the ground.

They needed to get her a bandaid. No, that wasn't enough. They needed a full bandage. The 7/11? That… that would have to do, he supposed. And she'd have to clean out the wound, of course. They couldn't risk it being infected. That would only make everything worse. How would they explain it to the girl at the store though? It would be the second time they-

"Izu-kun…" Toga smiled, this time a bit more genuinely. "You're muttering again."

"Oh, I, uh," His gaze flickered up towards her, then shot back down, afraid to meet her eyes. "... Sorry. This, this is my fault. I was… I was too aggressive. I hurt you."

Toga giggled, almost as though they were having yet another normal conversation. "Well of course you were being aggressive! You were doing exactly what I asked, after all!"

"But-" It didn't matter if he had been doing what she had asked! It didn't change the fact that her hand had a massive cut! "But I still hurt you!"

"Just a wittle scratch!" She held up her bloody hand, talking like a child.

Izuku just stared at the girl, almost… almost impressed. He could tell she was still in pain. He could see it in her eyes, in the way her smile didn't quite reach as wide as usual. But… but this was his fault. And he wanted to make up for it somehow. But how? A snack? That was to normal, barely an apology at all considering how he bought her one every day. A… a knife? He knew she liked knives. But that would just be wrong, like buying someone a car after they got hit by a bus. A little idea niggled at the back of his mind, though, one that refused to be quashed.

A twisted idea that was wrong in every way. An idea no one would approve of.

But one that just _seemed _right. One that felt right on an instinctual, animalistic level.

It sickened him, or at least, the part of him that was even willing to admit he was considering it. Not the idea, but the thought that he _wanted _to.

He wordlessly reached out, grabbing Toga's hand and holding it in front of his face, close enough that the sticky, metallic scent of blood filled his nostrils.

He gulped down his fear, and glanced up towards Toga, only to find her watching him with a mix of confusion and curiosity. His face was so red, it felt like it had been sunburnt.

She had done it too. So… so maybe it would comfort her? Like, like a kiss! Like how someone kissed a person's cut to make them feel better. Mom did that when he when he was a kid, and it made him feel better.

But what if this didn't make her feel better? How… how would she react? If she said no, how would he even explain himself? Could he explain himself? Would she be scared? He… he hoped not.

But he couldn't do it.

He couldn't risk hurting her again.

He was a freak. A quirkless freak. Looking down at her tiny hands, soft and doused in her own blood, some part of him pushed him to lean down and… and do something absolutely disgusting. But some part of him, the part that clung to society, the part that clung to _morality_, refused to allow it.

Why? Why were these thoughts coming to him? Why were these feelings forcing their way into his mind?

They were… wrong. And confusing.

Just… just ignore them. Maybe they'll go away.

Standing up, Izuku lifted Toga to her feet, and forced a smile. "Let's… let's go get this cleaned up, ok?"

Her gaze burned into him, sifting through his thoughts, even as he tried to hide them from her. From everyone. From himself. But after a moment of studying him, she smiled too. "Sure!"

Izuku's heart hurt, overworked by both exercise and Toga.

**A/N: Good evening, all! Jesus, that was a long chapter. Three scenes, 7,100 words… Yeah, not that long compared to other people's chapters, but my normal one is about 4,500 words. I hope this sated at least some of you guys' bloodlust, in whatever form it may take. But, due to a fear of me spoiling everything if I open my mouth now, I'm going to keep my lips firmly shut. Feel free to leave reviews, though! **

**A side note, though; I'm considering changing the title, mostly due to me choosing it more or less at random when I posted the first chapter. Current ones I'm considering are "The Wolf," "Wolfpack," "Temptation," and "Temptation / Compassion." What are you guys' thoughts? Should I keep it the same? Change it? And what ideas do you have? Just puttin' it out there.**

**With only the worst of intentions,**

**Imp the Nefarious**

**Beingwithu: Bro… You should turn these into a poem. It'd be like Dr. Suess, but **_**super**_** messed up.**

**ChildishGuestino: Thank you for the vote of confidence! … But, I really hope this "knife virginity" term doesn't stick around. I'm afraid it's what I'll get known for. Then again… Hey, branding is everything, isn't it? Just imagine a baseball cap with the words "Not a knife virgin" written across the top. I'd buy it.**

**Noble graysin: That does make sense, I suppose. A tad bit repetitive, perhaps, but reasonable. So, let this be considered my disclaimer: "Of the work featured above, only the plot and characters I have personally created belong to me. All other assets belong to their respective owners. If any entity is considering the possibility of suing me, please don't; I have nothing left to lose, short of a two granola bar, a very well-worn copy of The Devil is a Part Timer Vol. 4, and a laptop. You are unlikely to recuperate the funds you spent in the legal process." *takes a bow***

**Zaraki999: You bring up a very good point, actually; that fact always stuck out to me like a sore thumb when reading the manga. But, from what I can see, Izuku was hyperfocused on quirks and their application. This meant that he became amazing at analyzing quirks and their uses at an extremely fast rate, but he got caught in a mentality that could do little other than focus how heroes used quirks, and how he did not have one. This was at least my understanding of of his perception, and a perception he must be forced to change if he is to every become a hero.**


	9. Chapter 9

It was hard for Izuku to put a word on how he felt.

Fresh? Somewhat, but not really. Strong? Well, he wouldn't go that far. Perhaps… _Invigorated_. He supposed that it, of all of the options, may have fit the best.

_And it felt amazing._

He chased after the ball, weaving around his classmates with a singular goal. The rugged blacktop was hot, and the June air was sticky, making the entire court feel like the inside of a rice steamer. The sun, lazy orange in the blue sky, watched the game with mild disinterest, while clusters of clouds meandered with the wind, pondering whether they should let go of their rainy package today or tomorrow. The students passed the ball back and forth, shouting over the sounds of traffic as the tried to land a shot in the other team's hoop.

It was nice. Comfortable, even.

"Over here!" Izuku piped up, raising his arms as he tried to shoulder around a boy with a long, hook-like nose. The boy pushed back, but Izuku held his ground, completely focused on the ball.

Izuku had actually found himself looking forward to gym today, which even he knew was odd. But even after this morning's run, Izuku had energy to burn. He still had practice tonight, but after resting all of yesterday, his muscles not only felt clean and refreshed, but also the distinct need to do something. Sitting still in a chair for hours on end just made him get twitchy. Well, twitchier than usual. And so when the bell rang for gym, he had been the first out on the court, wanting to stretch his legs.

"Catch!" His teammate passed the ball Izuku's way, and the boy snatched it out of the air before the long-nosed kid had a chance to. The moment the ball landed in his hands, Izuku was already moving, each and every part of him going through practiced movements. Duck, twist, keep the ball out of their reach.

Was there anyone to pass to? One, two… Three solid options. No, Two. That boy was too short, and slow to react, from what Izuku had seen; the boy blocking him would definitely be able to steal the ball. He dribbled forward a few paces, trying to out-maneuver his classmates and find an open shot. Right, left… pass!

He threw the ball to his teammate, careful to maintain good form. It flew through the air in a perfect parabola, exactly as intended, before his teammate caught it and did his own part, trying to get it to the other end of the court.

"Good hustle, Midoriya!" Coach Goya's gruff voice resonated from a few courts away, the deep sound easily piercing the din of the basketball courts. "Keep it up!"

"T-thanks!" Izuku popped up, his eyes wide in surprise, but he beamed at the praise anyway. Maybe he wasn't the one making goals, but he was getting better, and that was the important part. He narrowed his eyes, once again focusing on the ball as his optimistic smile narrowed into one of honed determination. Back to the game.

There was a crude sneer, and Izuku's gaze flicked to the sound's origin.

Kacchan.

Izuku scowled. He could feel the boy's red eyes burning into him, and could hear him growling under his breath. A bit of blood drained from Izuku's face, but he tried to swallow his fear.

Ignore him.

Ignore him.

Focus on the game.

Izuku kept moving, focused solely on winning. That was one of the reasons he had come to like gym class. In his other classes, he couldn't do anything, or he'd stand out. He had to sit there, nose in his notebook and maybe quietly take some notes. He had brought a grip machine to class, just to use under his desk, but… he had felt the stares. He still brought it, of course, since he needed to train whenever and however possible, but it he could still feel the odd glance tossed towards him.

Here, though, it was different. He didn't have to worry about that, or at least, not as much. He had a goal, one that everyone else had too. And it let him shut out those stares, shut out their judgement.

So long as he was improving, so long as he was getting closer to being a hero, their stares could only do so much.

And so, he focused on the game, feeling time pass just as quickly as the ball through the air.

"Ok, everyone!" Goya cupped his hands around his mouth as he shouted, halting the games that were in motion. "Let's pack it up! Good job today!"

There were a few weak "sures" and "understoods" as the exhausted students mulled about, gathering up basketballs and water bottles. Izuku slowed to a stop, catching his breath as he scooped up the ball he had been dribbling just a moment before. He glanced around, catching sight of one of his teammates, one with particularly long fingers. Giving him a nervous wave, Izuku smile weakly as his chest heaved. His teammate took a swig from his water bottle, then wiped the residue from his lips. "Yeah, what's up?"

"I, uh, was wondering if you knew what the score was." Izuku tossed the basketball up in the air, and caught it again as he walked towards his classmate.

"Huh? Oh, uh…" The boy looked up, as though the clouds might reveal the answer, before frowning and waving over a friend. "… Hey, Watanabe, what was the score?"

"A fifty-six to fifty-six tie; that last-three pointer didn't count." Watanabe, the boy with the long nose, fanned himself with his shirt, trying to cool off.

"Whaaat? Nah, man, that's bullshit!" The two turned away, engaged in their own discussion as they walked towards the gate. "Why doesn't the three-pointer count?"

"Oh, uh, well…" Izuku waved at the two, but neither responded, more focused on their own bickering. "... Thanks."

He took a moment just to watch everyone clean up, a tightness in his chest.

It… it didn't really matter, did it? They had never cared about him, so why worry about it now? So long as they were having fun, it was all okay. He just needed to do the best he could.

Izuku looked up at the hoop, spinning the ball in one hand as he eyed the peeling paint and rusting metal. He had to put the ball away, but… why not just one more shot? After all, today had been a good day, and this would be a nice bow on top. Not a single one of those points came from him, but he still felt warm pride swell up in his chest.

He rolled his shoulders, loosening up the joints and muscles before the lactic acid set in. Spread his stance, get the right angle, and…

Jumping just enough to start the inertia, he took his shot. A clean shot, a good ark, looking like it will go in-

"Deku!" The ball was ruthlessly smacked to the ground.

"Wha-?" Izuku nearly jumped out of his skin, too focused on the ball to notice the blond approach. His face went ghostly white as his eyes were caught between tracking the rapidly approaching teenager and the rapidly departing ball. He took a few steps forward, chasing the ball towards the chain-link fence, but was cut off by a smoldering Kacchan. Izuku looked at the boy, and then over his shoulder, a concerned light in his eye as he attempted to slip around the boy.

"Uh, K-Kacchan, can I, um, get p-past yo-" His sentence was interrupted by a pained gasp as he was slammed against the fence.

"Shuddup, Deku!" Kacchan growled, his eyes narrow and his voice dropping to little more than a whisper. An vicious, _deadly _whisper that made every hair on Izuku's body stand on end. "I have somethin' I wanna tell you."

"Uh, w-what?" Izuku shrung under the blond's red glare, his eyes darting back and forth in a futile attempt to find an escape route.

Kacchan grit his teeth, and leaned down, just centimeters away from Izuku's ear. "P_iss off,_ got it?"

Izuku's wild gaze paused for a moment, fixed on his friend like a mouse would watch a cat. "... Huh?"

"You've been getting in my way during gym, and it's pissing me off!" Kacchan raised his voice, no longer bothering to hide his explosive rage.

"Oh, well, uh…" What? He tried his hardest to breathe, but his lungs refused to function properly. What did that even mean? He hadn't been getting in the boy's way, had he? Izuku had just been playing normally, trying his best to avoid Kacchan all together. "I'm sorry?"

"No you aren't! You think I'm stupid?" Kacchan yelled at the cowering boy, his palms sparking in such a way that advised not answering his question.

Izuku waved his hands in front of him, shaking his head with as much confidence as his rising panic would allow him. "N-no, of course not!"

"Then why are you _lying_?" Kacchan spoke through bared teeth, a wild dog. "I see how hard you're working to make me look bad!"

"Wha-?" To make him look bad? How _could _Izuku make him look bad? Kacchan was better in every way! "T-that's not the point at all!"

"Bullshit! I've seen you training, and I've seen that _freak _you meet at the gate!" Fiery accusations poured out of the boy's mouth, his eyes burning red. "And we all know you're not gonna be a hero, so what else could it be for?"

Izuku flinched away, pressing himself against the fence as though he could phase through it if he tried hard enough. He knew he wasn't strong. He knew that being a hero was practically impossible for him. He knew he'd probably fail, but-

Wait.

"... Freak?"

"Yeah, I said it!" Having found a chink in the armor, a demented smile spread across Kacchan's face. "The deku and the freak! The most useless fairytale I've ever fucking heard!"

He's wrong. She isn't a freak.

He's just saying things. Just like he always does. Just like how he always made fun of Izuku. But…

But it wasn't about him this time.

Toga was a lot of things. She was weird, and unnerving at times, and even sometimes downright scary. But... _But she cared. _She cared more than anyone else. She cared when everyone else beat him down.

Izuku's hand slipped into his pocket, his fingers tracing the tips of something long and metallic, and he clamped his jaw shut, willing himself not to speak.

"And just look at her face for god's sake!"

Izuku grit his teeth, hold back words he knew he'd regret. His fists shook, and his eyes were firmly planted on the concrete beneath his feet.

"Has so much fuckin' makeup on it you could paint a house!"

Shut up.

Shut up.

Shut up.

_Shut up shut up shut up!_

"... Shut up." His voice was small, just two weak words leaving his dry mouth.

"What was that?" Kacchan smiled like a gambler that already knew he had won, a pleasure-seeking demon that took pride in how much his victims suffered.

The same twisted smile he always had.

Izuku snapped.

"I said shut up!" His head shot up, a raging inferno trapped within his emerald eyes. His knuckles itched, screaming at him to throw that first punch. "You act like you know what freaks are, you act like you know what heroes are, but you don't! You don't at all! You say I can't be a hero, but want to know who really can't?" He stabbed the blond in the chest with his finger, poking the bear. "You! Heroes help people, but you're just a bully! You don't care about others! The only thing you care about it being strong!"

"You…" For a moment, Kacchan eyes went wide, and Izuku could practically see what he was thinking. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, couldn't believe Izuku would do anything but cower and cry.

Well, he best believe it, because this deku was done toeing that line.

Kacchan's shock quickly melted away, replaced by an infuriated snarl. "You think you can tell me how to be a hero? A deku like you?"

Izuku responded with a growl, low and deep like a wolf preparing to lash out in a flurry of fangs and fur. "You'll never be a hero, not a real one. You're just a power-hungry narcissist who was born lucky! You're no better than a vi-!" A fist slammed into Izuku's jaw, and the fence rattled behind him.

"Shut up, deku!" Another punch. And another. One to the gut. Another to the face. The taste of blood, sticky and metallic, filled his mouth, and he had to fight to keep the contents of his stomach inside. But he just needed stay on his feet.

That's all he needed to win.

He clung to the fence, the rough metal digging into his fingers and his head slamming against it every other punch. But the punches slowed, becoming sloppy and uncontrolled. Kacchan threw out another aimed for Izuku's face, wild and off balance, but in that moment-

\- It was his chance.

Izuku sidestepped, and some part of him heard Kacchan swear as his knuckles met a metal fence instead of his victim's face. But the victim didn't think about that. He was only focused on one thing.

His goal.

Izuku's movements were fluid and efficient, honed by Toga's training. His body now, even bruised and exhausted, responded to his commands faster and with more power than it ever had before. It wasn't a quirk, but when his knuckles met Kacchan's jaw, when the large boy stumbled back, reeling from the uppercut…

_It was invigorating._

"… I'll... I'll beat you." Izuku took a moment to sooth his burning lungs, but his fists never dropped. Everything hurt. Izuku's face was already starting to puff up with purple spots, and blood oozed from his split lip. His jaw throbbed, and his organs felt like they were all in the wrong places. But despite that, Izuku couldn't stop the barest of determined smiles from crawling onto his face. He licked away the blood that coated his teeth, and glared at the blond boy, speaking with the deadly whisper of a viper ready to strike. "Katsuki, I'm gonna beat you, and I'm gonna become a hero. A better hero than you could ever be. One that actually helps people."

"_You little_..!"

"Break it up, break it up!" Coach Goya threw his large body between the two students, his round gut heaving as he tried to recover from running across the basketball courts. "For the love of all things heroic, calm down!"

"Get out of the way, old man!" Kacchan spat out a glob of spit and blood, and tried to run around the giant, while Izuku ducked his head and hid his face behind his fists. Kacchan's hands were popping like firecrackers, but before either could throw another punch, Goya's large hands pushed them apart.

"Calm down!" An exasperated sigh left the coach's lips, and he shook his head. "Christ, you kids need help."

)ooOoo(

When the adrenaline wore off, the anxiety set in.

Izuku sucked in sharp breaths as the school nurse ran a cotton swab full of alcohol against his split lip.

"Hey, just a bit more, ok?" The middle aged woman smiled sympathetically, and finished up her work as quickly as possible. She stood up, looking over the boy one last time, before nodding in satisfaction. "Well, you should be good to go! Just be careful, and try not to get into any more fights!" She laughed, but it was a forced motion, with concern leaking into her voice.

"S-sure!" Izuku tried to smile back, but the movement fell apart halfway through. "So, should I, uh… return to class?"

"Oh, about that, the principal requested to see you when I was done." The nurse pulled off her rubber gloves, and began washing her hands in a small sink beside the chair Izuku was sitting in. But upon seeing the blood drain from the boy's face, she quickly added to her statement. "But don't worry, it doesn't sound like you're in trouble!"

"Well, that's, uh, that's good…" His voice tapered off, a his eyes looking everywhere but the nurse. "I-I'll be going, then…"

The woman gave him a small wave as he pushed himself out of the chair and left the nurse's office. Despite his throat being as dry as stone, he still swallowed, and nervously made his way down the hallway, pressed up against the wall even though the entire hall was empty. Honestly, the lack of other students only made him feel more nervous. It only served to remind him that they were all in class, and he was supposed to be to. But… but he had messed up.

Why had he done that? Stupid! He had practically egged Kacchan on, of course the boy attacked him! He might've been angry with, or rather, _because _he was so angry with the boy earlier, it was his fault. The nurse might've said he wasn't in trouble, but that couldn't be true. He got into a fight! A-and they were going to call his mom. Oh god, how was Mom going to react? Would she be angry? She definitely wouldn't be happy, at least. Maybe he could try and convince the principal to let him tell his mom, instead of someone else? That way he could explain it more gently, and she wouldn't freak out. He'd still have to deal with detention, suspension even, but at least he could spare his mom a little stress that way. The thoughts swirled around his head, and he bit his sore lip as he climbed up the stairs.

He quickly reached a door the color of a rotten log, but hesitated before knocking. A… a gameplan. Make a game plan. First, apologize. Ask what his punishment was. And then, after going through that, ask if he could be the one to tell Mom. Yeah. That sounded… well, not good, but the best he could hope for. He clenched his jaw, and tried his hardest to ignore the electric current surging through his stomach.

Izuku rapped his knuckles against the wooden door, and almost immediately, there was a response. "Come in!"

The door creaked open, the green-haired boy stepping through it with the confidence of a shrew. "I-... I was told you wanted to speak with me?"

"Ah, yes!" The man behind the desk, with a set of glasses as thick as window panes and all of the head's hair located on his upper lip, shuffled the papers on his desk and gestured towards one of the chairs across from him. He smiled in that weary way that made Izuku wonder how long he had been waiting to retire. "Please sit! How are you feeling?"

"I'm, uh, I'm ok, sir." Izuku stuttered, his mind racing to understand the reasons behind the man's friendliness. He shuffled over to the chair as fast as he reasonably could, and plopped down on the plastic padding, his back as straight as a board.

"That's good..!" The old man opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, trying to find his words. He fiddled with one of the ornaments on his desk in a desperate attempt to make the silence less oppressive, before coughing into his fist, and beginning. "It has come to my attention that you and Mr. Bakugou had some… unpleasant discourse… earlier today. Do you have anything you'd like to explain about your behavior?"

Izuku nodded, and bowed his head, his gaze shooting between his feet and the principal's face. "I... I just wanted to apologize for my actions. What I did was… I-it was wrong of me. I assure you, it won't happen again!" His voice cracked, but he spoke with as much authenticity and confidence as he could muster. "I understand that I still must deal with a my punishment, and… And I understand that you have to be harsh."

The principal's eyes lingered over Izuku, and the boy twitched under the man's prying gaze. He… he knew what he did was wrong. He just hoped the principal would understand how much he regretted it. The older man tapped his pen against his desk, and for several moments, Izuku couldn't breath.

But the principal simply let out a long, relieved sigh, and nodded. "That's… That's good. I was worried, actually. If you didn't recognize what you did was wrong, I would've had to have been more strict in your punishment."

Izuku let out the breath he had been holding, and lifted his head. "Th-thank you, sir."

The man twirled the pen in his hand, and leaned back in his chair. "Of course. Considering your sincerity, I'll be lenient, and let this slip." His eyes flickered towards the student, and he caught the pen, pointing it at Izuku. "_Just_ this once."

"Really?" A hopeful smile came to Izuku's face, but it flickered for a moment. "W-what about Kacchan? What will happen to him?"

"Mr. Bakugou?" The principal raised a bushy eyebrow. "I have already spoken with him, and we've reached the same conclusion."

… Huh? Izuku attempted to imagine his childhood apologizing, but nothing he could think of seemed… well, possible.

"B-but… why?" Izuku spoke softly, uncertain if he should even be asking. The school was just going to pretend that this never happened?

"Well, simply put, I'd rather sweep this all under the rug." The principal smiled nervously, his forced positivity piling high as he skirted around the question. "So long as the two of you have learned your lesson, I see no reason to mark this down on the record. My job as an educator is to help you learn and grow, not punish you."

"You're not going to record this happened?" That wasn't how things were supposed to work. Even if they weren't punished, it had to be recorded. It had to be put on record. If it wasn't how could the school be accountable? "But isn't that against school policy?"

The man's smile drooped, as though subtly warning him not to push too far. "... Do you want this on your record?"

"Well, no, but…" Izuku fidgeted under the man's critical eye, twiddling his fingers and pulling at his shirt. Even if he didn't want it on his record, per se, rules were rules, and...

"Mr. Midoriya, both of you are so young, and sometimes children make mistakes." The old man spoke very solemnly, lacing his fingers together. "For Mr. Bakugou, a report like this could ruin his chances at getting accepted to U.A., despite how hard he's worked."

And in that moment, everything the teacher was saying clicked in Izuku's mind.

This wasn't about Izuku apologizing. It wasn't about making sure he was alright, or applying the school's rules in an even handed way.

"This… This is about his chances of getting into U.A.?"

"Well, uh, yes, in some ways. I'm sure you... have goals of your own, so no doubt you can understand." The principal gave a lopsided grin, and nodded. "From what I've been told, Mr. Bakugou has worked his whole life to be a hero, and as his teacher, I don't want a small incident like this to ruin his dream."

Izuku clenched his fists, a small fire sparking to life in his soul. That's what this was about. The man didn't even bother pretending it wasn't. The school wanted to hide this, all because Kacchan was trying to get into U.A.. They were ignore school rules, rule designed to keep them accountable, _rules designed to keep students safe_, just so that they could get a student into a hero academy. That wasn't how this was supposed to work. _That's not how any of this is supposed to work._

He had been beaten up, bullied, abused, he had even bowed his head, worried about his punishment, and their response was to pretend nothing had happened? _To call it a 'small incident' and then move on?_

Izuku grit his teeth, but didn't look up.

"... _His _dream?"

"Um... yes." The man scratched his chin, and clicked his pen.

Not Izuku's dream. No, of course not. Kacchan was the strong one. He was the one everyone gambled on. The one everyone _protected. _Just because of his quirk, he could get away with anything, and everyone would still just cheer him on. He just wanted to-!

Calm, calm down. Just calm down for a moment. He let out a long, shaky breath as the tension left his body. It had always been like this, hadn't it? The rules didn't exist for Kacchan. The rules didn't exist for the strong. But… but nothing he could say would change the principal's mind. Looking at the man, seeing the casual way he admitted his bias, he probably didn't even see it as wrong. His… his only option was to retreat. Cut his losses, and think up some excuse to tell Mom. There were only so many realistic reasons for him to be this beaten up.

"... I, I understand." Izuku pushed himself out of his chair and bowed, shaking from both shock and anger. "Th-thank you for being so lenient with me, sir."

"Of course!" The man smiled, seemingly relieved, and began sorting through his papers once again. "I am only here to help, after all! Feel free to come and speak with me if whenever you feel you need to."

Izuku nodded curtly, and quickly stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. Yes, the principal was there to help; that much was obvious.

But what was just as easy to see was that _he wasn't there to help Izuku._

He ran his fingers over the edge of his knife, a dark scowl spreading across his face.

)ooOoo(

Now, what sort of girl did Izu-kun like?

Himiko coiled her headphone cord around her finger, rocking her head to the music as her fluorine yellow eyes scanned through the crowd of departing students. Her gaze followed the girls in particular, as if to find reference points for her question, and she couldn't help but smile gleefully as she pondered the thought.

How would she speak? What would her interests be? Her quirk? Hair color? Eye color? Ooh, the eyes were an important part! Izu-kun's eyes were Himiko's favorite, a delicate balance between childish innocence and steel determination. So any girl for him would have to have nice eyes too!

Oh, so many questions, so many details! Himiko could spend hours pondering the simple question, she already knew it! Her heart clamored against its restraints, demanding answers. Could... she just ask him? She gingerly held a finger against her chin, and rolled her head to one side. But then, a thin smile spread across her face, competing with her lovesick blush for control. No, of course not! That would take all of the fun out of it! And besides, she already knew how he would answer. She could already see it in her mind's eye, tinkering with the image and giggling. He'd be blushing uncontrollably, sputtering as he tried to both answer honestly and avoid embarrassment. He wouldn't give her any answers, but maybe it was worth asking just to see that reaction. Her eyes drifted upwards, watching the slow roll of fluffy clouds as her focus turned inwards. Let's see…

Izuku would want a cute girl, of course. Everyone liked cute girls, after all! But aside from that…

A gentle girl. She could tell he was a quiet soul, the sort that needed to be cherished. He'd need someone that he could relax around, and be open with. Someone who he didn't need a special reason to spend time with. A scene bloomed in her mind, Izuku and some girl, snuggled together on a sofa in comfortable silence as they read. A smile came to Himiko's face. A slightly sad smile.

Would he ever meet a girl like that? She hoped so.

"Toga?"

"Hiya, Izu-kun!" She would recognize that timid voice anywhere. For an odd moment, Himiko didn't move, simply watching the clouds pass. "Do you have a favorite type of cloud? Mine are the pink, fluffy ones from around sunset."

"... Not really? I, uh, I don't think about it a lot." He spoke hesitantly, as though walking across cracked ice. He was selecting each word with a cautious hand, she could hear it in his voice. It was endearing, like watching a baby opossum try and decide between jumping to greet her or scurry up it's tree.

Of course, opossums always chose the tree.

"Really?" She plucked her earbuds out, wrapping them around her hand and shoving them in her pocket. "Well, that's okay! Did anything special happen today?"

"Oh, uh… In some ways, I guess…" He shrunk back, and Himiko quirked an eyebrow, an intrigued smile spreading across her face as she spun around. Now what could that mean? She caught herself on her heel, her hands laced together behind her back. And the moment she saw him, her heart skipped a beat.

His face was one of Himiko's favorite features. Kind green eyes that held that special spark of enthusiasm, a sprinkling of dark freckles, a set of soft and pinchable cheeks. So, at the sight of it, swollen, busted, and blue, the girl couldn't help but smile a bit more genuinely.

Or, at least, a bit more hungerly.

"So…" Her voice was low, almost teasing as she closed the distance between them, her eyes scouring his body. "... Was it fun?"

"W-what do you mean?" Izuku twitched nervously, refusing to meet her gaze, and she couldn't the urge to lick her sharp teeth.

"You know what you did." She spoke slowly, trying her best to be mysterious and intimidating. She wasn't sure if it was because she was good at it, or because Izuku was just the little bundle of nerves she so adored, but when he sucked in a sharp breath of air and looked at the cement, his eyes full of shame, Himiko knew it was working.

"Look, I, uh, I know that I shouldn't have done it." He clenched his fists, struggling to force the words out "It… it was wrong of me, but… I was just so angry, and…."

"Shshshsh…" She whispered into his ear, pressing a finger over his lips. "Just promise me something."

He swallowed his guilt, and nodded. "... W-what is it?"

She held his jaw, and somber green met toxic yellow. "Promise to never cheat on me again."

There were a few moments of passing silence as Himiko watched the gears in his head turn. Izuku furrowed his eyebrows, and opened his mouth to speak, carefully selecting exactly what he wanted to say…

"... Huh?" All of the weight and dread in his voice fizzled, replaced with blank confusion. Himiko saw his mind go blank through his eyes, and she burst out laughing.

"Wha-! No, I would never-!" Izuku's face blossomed pink, just like one of the the cherry blossoms of months ago. "I mean, w-we're not dating anyway, so-!"

"Aww, really? Even after everything we've done together, you don't even want to go on a date?" She hung from his shoulders, whimpering like a kicked puppy, before a smile played at the edges of her lips.

"T-that's not what I meant at all, I just-!" His tongue stumbled over his words, but he just barely caught himself before the words slipped out. What words? Himiko knew what they were. It was written all over his face, so plain and obvious that even a blind mole could see it. But still…

Deep underneath the many layers of messy makeup and plastered on smiles, Himiko's heart ached.

Izuku always seemed to stop himself. Every time, at the very last moment, he held himself back. He refused to tell her. He was afraid of something. Rejection? Embarrassment? Losing a friend?

No.

She ran her tongue over her teeth, feeling the sharp grooves of her canines, and tried to ignore the knot in her stomach. He was just like everyone else, she could tell. Despite the way he stuttered and blushed, she could see it in his eyes, the way he looked at her.

He was afraid of her.

"Hey Izu-kun!" Himiko let go, stumbling back as she snapped her companion out of his stammering. "Let's go get a snack!"

She was hungry. Always so hungry.

But… to satisfy that desire, she have to give him up. Just like all of the others. Reach the peak of ecstasy, only to leave him bleeding out on the pavement.

And Himiko had never wanted that, not for anyone.

)ooOoo(

The sun had just set below the horizon, casting the world in long, cool shadows. Izuku was thankful for it, really; after the long, hot day, the cool breeze felt good against his sweaty skin. His limbs felt like they were filled with lead, and his face was still sore from earlier, but he was happy. Happy in that tired, satisfied way that only seemed to come about after a hard workout.

He plodded up the stairs to his apartment, his knees aching, and Toga walked ahead of him, playfully dashing up and down the steps. Izuku stared at her with a mix of admiration and dismay. How on earth could she be so energetic? She had done all of the exercises alongside him, but she seemed just as bouncy as before they even started. She was amazing.

Or maybe he was just that bad. Izuku cast a sidelong glance, and a sigh slipped past his lips.

"Hm?" Toga peered back over her shoulder, an inquisitive smile on her face. "What's wrong, Izu-kun?"

"Oh, uh," Izuku was caught between meeting her gaze and doing everything possible to avoid it. "It's nothing. I was just... thinking about training."

Toga nodded in approval, and skipped up a few steps, as though she was physically required to release a certain amount of happy energy every second. "You've improved a lot these past few weeks! You actually have muscles now!" She grinned toothily, proud of his achievement, but in some ways, it only made him feel worse.

"Y-yeah… Thanks…" He tried to draw his lips into a smile, but it wasn't particularly effective. It still wasn't enough. It had been almost two months. Twenty percent of his training. Time was passing too quickly. Was he improving fast enough? Was he getting stronger fast enough? He had… well, he wouldn't say won, but he had held his ground against Kacchan, and that had to count for something. He might want to up his strength training, though. Just in case.

His training with Toga had been going decently, but getting used to her fighting style was... difficult. That was the best word for it. Her style relied on striking key joints and muscles, which made sense in many ways; he couldn't piledrive through an opponent's armor, so he had to aim for its weaknesses, and exploit them. It made sense to Izuku, at least on a logical level. But it was difficult in a different way that the other exercises. During his runs, he was held back by weakness, painfully bad stamina and sore muscles, but during his fights, he was held back by…

Fear, he supposed? It was the only word that really fit. He could hold form, he could even keep up with Toga's movements sometimes, but when there was a chance to strike… he just couldn't. He would see a chance, a slipup, _an opportunity to end the fight_, but he couldn't bear to even imagine the blade touching Toga's skin. Because every time an opportunity presented itself, those vicious, _twisted _thoughts entered his mind.

He disgusted himself. And, if he did aim to win… He could hurt her. She had taught him to aim for muscles and veins, and should he hit his mark...

A silver brush painting white skin red. A pair of lips, licked clean. A set of dagger-like teeth, strained crimson.

His innards twisted into knots, but not at the thoughts themselves; much rather, he was sickened by the realization that the images in his mind _didn't_ disgust him.

Stop! For the love of all things heroic, stop! This… _this obsession_… was nothing short of villainous! What All Might think if he saw it? Or Mom? Or_ anyone? _It was simple! It was disgusting, and unsafe, and… and he could hurt Toga.

But she did it too.

No! Don't try and justify it! Don't try and make it seem acceptable!

Izuku tried to push the thoughts away, but it only made them impossible to ignore. He… he could remember how it felt. Pinned to the ground. His heart throbbing in his chest. His hot breath mingling with her's as the cold blade was drawn across his throat...

He grimaced, squeezing his fists until the knuckles were white, but came back to reality when he realized they had reached his floor. "Oh, we're, uh, we're here." He tried to force a smile, so fake he had no doubt Toga's prying yellow eyes saw right through it, and opened the door to his apartment. "... Well, uh, bye T-"

"Izuku?" Both Izuku and Toga perked up at the sound of Mom's shouting from the apartment. "Is that you and Toga out there?"

Before Izuku could answer, Toga threw open the door. "Hiya, Mrs. Midoriya!"

Mom stuck her head out of the kitchen, peeking at the two children in the entrance as a grin spread across her round face. "Hello there, Toga-chan! Izuku, how about you _invite her in?_" She said it in the way that, to anyone who wasn't a Midoriya, it sounded like a pleasant suggestion; but both of the Midoriyas knew it was a bit more 'forceful recommendation'than that.

"Oh, o-" Izuku's voice caught in his voice as he became acutely aware of Toga's expectant gaze. "Ok. Toga, would you, uh... l-like to come in?"

"Sure!" She lithely slipped past Izuku, stepping into the Midoriyas' humble abode, and Izuku followed close behind, gently shutting the door behind him. This wasn't the first time Toga had been in his house; she had stopped in a few times before. But watching the blond girl travel around the room, inspecting every small detail with the boundless curiosity of a child, Izuku couldn't help but nervously fidget a little. What did she think of his house? Did she think it was weird? He felt the strong urge to hide the baby photos that Mom had placed around the house. Izuku knew that the wall paint was a weird color of yellow, and that the fan creaked a little as it spun which could get annoying, and…

Toga giggled, and tossed an endearing glance towards Izuku. "You're muttering agaaaain!"

"What? Oh, uh, well-" Izuku snapped his mouth shut before he could embarrass himself more, and his face exploded into a myriad of reds and pinks, as though it were about to pop. This only made Toga giggle more as she danced around the room.

"Oh, Toga-chan, would you like to stay for dinner?" Mom took a step out of the kitchen, wearing an apron and carrying a large stirring spoon. "I accidentally made too much, so it would really help."

Izuku felt the blood drain from his face. 'Accidentally?' She wasn't even being subtle! His gaze shot towards the blonde, who's playful grin had been replaced with a curious scowl.

"Really?" She cocked her head, and nervously tugged at her cardigan sleeves. Nervously? Izuku furrowed his eyebrows, both surprised and intrigued by her change in behaviour. For perhaps the first time, she looked… uncertain? "Like… a family dinner?"

Mom gave a round, cheeky smile that could only be described as motherly. "Consider yourself part of the family!"

In that moment, Izuku watched the sun rise. Warm rays of happy sunlight washed over the room, and a spark of new life entered the air. Not literally, but at the sound of his mother's words, the girl's smile grew ten times larger, and ten times brighter.

"Can I help cook?" She hopped from one foot to the other, barely containing her excitement.

"Of course!" Mom beamed, before her smile drooped into the more tired, relieved sort. "You would be a huge help."

"Yay!" Toga leapt up, jumping past Izuku and dashing to join his mother in the kitchen. "I'll try my best!"

"I'm, uh…" Izuku watched the two get started, somewhat relieved that they got along so well… but unnerved by his mom's obvious motives. He shifted his weight back and forth, and grabbed his bookbag off the ground. "I'm going to go put my stuff away."

"Okay." Mom nodded, and brushed off her apron. "I'll send Toga-chan to get you when dinner's ready."

When he entered his room, he leaned his bag against his bag, and quickly replaced his sweaty exercise clothes with a set of clean ones. He wouldn't mind a shower, but… that could wait until after Toga left. He collapsed onto his bed and just took a moment to relax, letting his tense muscles loosen. He shut his eyes, and with the smoothness of a well-worn habit, lifted a small dumbbell off of the ground, doing a few reps even as the rest of his body rested.

Today had been… eventful. That was the word. Or, at least _a _word. It made it sound better than it actually was.

Today had been a mess.

'_Mr. Bakugou has worked his whole life to be a hero, and as his teacher, I don't want a small incident like this to ruin his dream.'_

Izuku grit his teeth. He knew there was nothing he could do, but… it still felt so wrong. He… he might've understood if the school blamed him for the entire thing, but to simply sweep it under the rug? Pretend it never happened? They were flippantly disregarding the rules.

For what reason? Just to boost their own prestige. To be able to claim they got a student into U.A.. And that student wasn't Izuku; no, they had already chosen their racehorse. They gambled on Kacchan. Not because he was a good person. Not because he acted like a true hero. But simply due to how naturally gifted he was. He set the dumbbell down, and ran a hand through his knotted green hair.

And the principal couldn't be the only one. Looking back on it, Izuku had seen situations like this all the time. Some people would just be excused from the rules. His eyes flickered open, and he glanced at the All Might posters that lined his walls.

There had actually been a few cases where it had happened to heroes, now that Izuku thought about it. Like that time Endeavor had set an entire apartment complex on fire; Izuku remember watching with bated breath, taking notes on the lawsuit week after week. And, eventually, the case had just been tossed out. At the time, Izuku had been relieved; after all, what would happen if the hero had been stripped of his license? But now…

Now, just thinking back on it, he felt sick, as though he was forcing expired mayonnaise past his tongue and down his throat. What had happened to all of the people living there? Had they ever been reimbursed? Did anyone get hurt? Did they have to find new houses, new jobs?

There had to have been more situations like that; after all, some heroes had extremely destructive quirks. But that was the only case Izuku specifically remembered, and it had been national news, mostly because of how far the case had gotten. All the others… all of the other times must've been…

'_I'd rather sweep this all under the rug.'_

Izuku could only sit perfectly still, shocked at the thought. He pushed himself off the bed, so steady and smooth he appeared more as a piece of animate machinery than an actual person. And with wide eyes, he stared at the poster above his desk.

ANYONE CAN BECOME A HERO

… That was a lie. All Might had told him as much; unless you were born with a powerful quirk, becoming a hero was impossible. And those that did become heroes were granted special privileges, protected from the written law by a society that idolized them. And, looking at it that way…

No wonder people thought Kacchan could be a hero.

Strong.

Ambitious.

Gifted.

Heroism wasn't a factor.

With a slow hand, Izuku reached up, gripping the loose edge of the poster.

And tore it down.

**A/N: Good evening, all! How is everyone? Hopefully enjoying the direction this is going? This chapter was a tad slow, I'll admit, but it took a bit to write.**

**So, quick show of hands, who here cares about canon? … Mm-hm, mm-hm, I hope you're all raising your hands. If you ain't, raise 'em up, cause the canon is our bible. We can all have different interpretations, but them there are the facts. But just like any religion, there are those people who reject it on a fundamental level, and do all sorts of funky stuff. And, right now, I'm that person. In the most recent chapter of BNHA, they began to reveal some tidbits about Toga's backstory, a lot of which already contradicts the headcanon I'm using for this story. I'm feeling… split on this. I'm happy Horikoshi is giving Toga a backstory, and I have no doubt that it's going to be amazing! It's already looking really interesting. But also, after spending several weeks just planning this story, let alone actually writing it, there's a little part of me that sees his work, and goes…**

_**SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**_

**Simply put, canon Toga and CTLT Toga are going to be fundamentally different characters, with different backstories. Albeit, this is already an AU story, but in some ways it makes me feel sick to right a character's backstory in direct opposition to the author. But if I change CTLT Toga's origin, it'll drastically change the story. So, the more "limited" canon I will being working off of will be that of seasons 1-3, ok? Ok, nice to clear that up.**

**And, in (what I consider) big news, this story's hit 200 followers! (223 as of the time of posting) I know it ain't a big deal, but damn, it feels good. I'll try and keep this goin' for you guys! A small sidenote, I may be a day or two late in updating the next chapter, just due to some stuff coming up; I'll try and avoid messing up my update schedule, but I'm just giving forewarning.**

**With only the worst of intentions,**

**Imp the Nefarious**

**Malsyn: Talk about poor timing, right? I feel like it's one of those times you wish for something, but what you get is the most twisted possible version of what you wished for. "You want a backstory? BAM. RIGHT WHEN YOU PUT IN ENOUGH WORK TO MAKE IT IMPOSSIBLE TO COURSE-CORRECT!" *evil laughter* I hope the note above answers your question, though. More or less, this is full AU now. I hope you don't mind that.**

**Retnuh1000: I love these long comments. I see it pop up in my inbox, and even before I get a chance to read it, my brain goes "OH YEAH HERE WE GO." I'm super thankful for your compliments, I'm always worried that I'm overplaying the edge, or underplaying the emotional development, or making it too fast, or way too slow, or- ya know what, I think you get the point. To hear that this isn't a trainwreck is a success in my books. More importantly, thank you for your constructive criticism! I'll try to work on the Augur scenes, make them more interesting; he is a very important character, one who will remain for a very good portion of the story, so he best be an entertaining one too. I'm not sure if this was clear, but his first name is actually Shou; he just doesn't prefer it. Other than Tsuruko and a few others, everyone refers to him as "The Augur." I also totally respect your "no favorited incomplete fics policy," but that likely means that I won't be seeing your favorite for quite a long time. I've already got all of the major arcs and sub-arcs planned out, and I have the very distinct feeling that, even if I manage to keep up this weekly pace, this project is gonna take a good year at least. **_**At least.**_** So, uh… sit tight, and enjoy the ride!**

**Sinister10tails: Damn, you're makin' me blush! I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far, and I'm especially happy that you're curious to see what happens. My #1 goal is to make you care enough to try and think of the possibilities! After all, the most beautiful part of this community is the sheer amount of creativity and new ideas that are borne out of it. And I can definitely see why you mention nefarious; feels rather similar. That's a good game, the sort that made me physically uncomfortable because of my choices.**

**Some Asshole: Yeah, I think I'm going to try for longer chapters; I'm thinking the 6500-7500 range, depending on the chapter. I actually had to cut this scene down, since it seemed like too much stuff. Or, more particularly, too much **_**slow paced**_** stuff. If it felt too slow paced, kinda a trudge, feel free to tell me. **


	10. Chapter 10

"Get up."

Poke.

"Come on, get up."

Poke.

The Augur groaned loudly, and rolled onto his side, squeezing his eyes shut. "... Give me a minute."

"I did, five minutes ago." Despite how foggy his mind was, he could hear the sly amusement in Tsuruko's voice. "And you fell back asleep."

Maybe… maybe if he didn't respond…

His mind drifted into sweet silence, and the stiff leather seat felt far more comfortable than it ever had before. This… this felt nice. Just another minu-

Poke.

"_Fine_." The investigator made a gruff sound halfway between a growl and a groan, and forced his stiff eyes open. He kicked the door to the van open, and clamored out of the vehicle, stretching his sore limbs. The morning sun might've been shining, but he sure as hell wasn't. All he wanted was some damn sleep, was that too much to ask for? He got nothing else, apparently!

A decent paycheck? No! They cut his pay so much, he had to find a new apartment!

A team? Nope! There were three of them. _Three._ The other three had been fired, and now, the people who were left had to work double time. Not like they were working that hard anyway, right?

Scheduling convenience? Now who needed that? If he wanted this witness interview, he had to be in Osaka at _seven in the fucking morning,_ because he had a meeting at four in the afternoon, and apparently a hotel room, _or even just a set of bullet train tickets_, was just too much to ask for from the department. No, instead they just had to drive a total of twelve hours to and from the city, taking shifts driving to make sure the pile of junk didn't crash.

"It's a pretty morning, isn't it?" Tsuruko walked over from the other side of the van, casting a glance around the summer morning's scenery. She reached up, tying her hair into bun, and straightened her suit jacket. "I got to see the sun rise, and I tell ya, it's a real pretty thing to see."

"Uh-huh, sure." The Augur didn't even pretend to sound interested, his narrow eyes focused on his watch. 6:53. Seven minutes. Was that enough time for coffee? Just casting a glance around, there were three convenience stores in sight. Was it good coffee? No. But it was cheap, and it was quick.

"... Smile a bit, will ya?" His teammate playfully bumped shoulders with him, before opening the trunk of the van and rummaging through it. "You look like death on a bad hair day. Where's that positive attitude you always say we're supposed to have?" She pulled two briefcases out, gracelessly shoving one into the Augur's hand as she shot him a dry smile.

"'Professional'." He slammed the back of the van shut, his face completely deadpan. "Professional attitude. I never said anything about a 'positive' attitude."

Tsuruko snickered, and shook her head. "Let's just get going before you run off in search of coffee. And fix that attitude before the interview; you're gonna scare the witness."

He swore under his breath. "Without my coffee, that's guaranteed." Tsuruko chuckled, and despite himself, a small grin grew on the Augur's face.

The two quickly entered what could only be described as a desperate attempt to make a dull gray office building seem child-friendly, pushing open the door and stepping into the lobby. The walls were decorated with old, flaking paintings of flowers and cartoonish animals, and the Augur was quick to note the abundance of child-focused magazines scattered about the room, tucked onto shelves and laid on side tables. He paused beside on of the tables, grabbing up one of the magazines.

'_Parents Digest: This month, 100 tips and tricks to teach your child great manners!'_

The Augur sneered, and gracelessly dropped the magazine back onto the table. It seemed that the magazine had yet to improve its choice of topics. Not that he had read it in years.

"Shou?" He glanced up, only to see Tsuruko watching him with concern. "You don't have to be here if you don't want to be."

"I'm fine." He straightened his suit, and tried to ignore the bitter taste in his mouth. "We're here to get a job done."

Tsuruko frowned, not quite believing him, but nodded. "If you say so." She turned on her heel, and the two approached the front desk.

"Hello, how can I help you?" The lady behind the desk, perhaps in her mid forties and with a few graying strands in her hair, welcomed them with a polite smile.

The Augur did not smile back. "We have an appointment."

The nodded, and looked at the calendar behind the desk. "Your names, please?"

"Sasaki Tsuruko and the Augur, visiting under the request of the Criminal Affairs Bureau." Tsuruko spoke up this time, smiling friendly but speaking with an amount of formality and authority that only came after years of practice. Both her and her partner placed their I.D.'s on the counter, sliding them towards the woman for examination.

"Ok! Just give me one moment-" The woman perkily typed a few words into her computer, until her brain made the connections, and she froze, the blood draining from her face. The Augur scowled, quite familiar with that reaction. She quickly finished typing, and looked up at the two investigators, her smile significantly more forced than before. "So.. the two of you are here to interview Aimi?"

The Augur quirked an eyebrow. "Was she the one that was attacked?"

"Uh… yes, she was the one." The woman behind the desk shifted uncomfortably in her seat, but the Augur's cold gaze did not stray from her.

"Then yes."

There were a few moments of silence where the woman just stared at him, her jaw clamped firmly shut and her soft filled with nervous expectation. Was she expecting him to say something? He grimaced, his hands shoved in his pockets. Well, there was nothing more to be said. He had stated his purpose for coming.

"So!" Tsuruko slapped her hands together, shattering the silence in the typical boisterous manner she used to overcompensate for her compatriot. "Do you believe we'll be able to have that interview?"

"Oh, um..!" The poor woman practically jumped out of her skin, snapping into a flurry of half-panicked movement, and for a brief moment, the Augur's scowl softened. "Just give me a moment!"

For the Augur, this was just a normal, if somewhat annoying day. He had conducted so many interviews, sliced open so many corpses, he doubted much could phase him. But he doubted that this woman saw investigators on a daily basis. Crime, death, investigations; they were the things of murder mysteries and the evening news. He and Tsuruko, they were creatures of death and loss. Heroes might be angels, but he was the grim reaper. And so, for this lady…

The Augur held back a sigh.

He supposed he couldn't blame her. But, he wanted to be done with this as much as she did.

"Here we are." She tapped a few keystrokes, and the printer behind her sputtered to life. Snatching up the sheets, she waddled out from behind the desk, and gestured towards the hallway. "This way, Mr...?" She held up his I.D., quickly scanning over it, but he plucked it from her pudgy hands before she could speak.

"Augur. Just Augur."

She watched him for a second, her confused gaze traveling between the Augur and Tsuruko, before nodding. "I see. Well, I'm Mrs. Igarashi; I'm the primary administrator here, though I do also help take care of the children at times."

"I see." He slipped his I.D. into his pocket, and glanced at the papers in Mrs. Igarashi's hands. "... And those are?"

"Just some of the information you requested in your email." She passed the papers over to him, forcing herself to maintain eye contact. The Augur broke it for her, taking the papers and glancing over them. "It took a really long time to organize this interview, so I thought it was the least I could do."

"No need to apologize; The vast majority of issues occured on our end."Tsuruko interjected, slinging her briefcase over her shoulder and giving a thumbs up. Tsuruko was right, of course; almost _all _of the conflicts were on the investigators' end. But that didn't make three months pass any faster.

"You're busy people, I have no doubt, and our organization's scheduling issues did little to help." Igarashi smiled back, but only with a ghost of her former enthusiasm. "But, either way, please follow me." She turned on her heel, and began down the hallway.

"Of course."

There was a tap on his shoulder, and the Augur turned to see see his partner holding up her briefcase. "Hey, you can interview on your own, right? I'll try and work on the arms smuggling case out here."

Ah, of course. His frown deepened. Normally, Tsuruko would accompany into any interviews, just in case her quirk was required. But ever since the budget cuts… Well, everyone had to shoulder the consequences, and Tsuruko refused to let him take care of any more than her. He sighed, half out of exhaustion, and half out of sympathy, before nodding. "I should be able to, yes."

"Without traumatizing the witness?" She smiled wryly, clapping him on the shoulder. "She's just a child, and we both know your history with kids."

The Augur snorted. Yeah, you could put it that way. "I offer no guarantees." He shrugged her off, and turned on his heel, following Mrs. Igarashi. Now, about this report…

He quickly scanned over the page, cataloging the important details in his mind.

Name: Toga Himiko. Fourteen years of age, yellow eyes, naturally blond hair. 157 centimeters tall, 47.3 kilograms as of last year's health checkup. All technical information he had found in the medical documents from before. There were a few new details, though, one's he'd have to be certain to mark down. Any lead was a good lead. Or, at the very least, better than no leads.

She attended therapy sessions at Hyogo General Psychiatric Hospital, just a few streets south of the building he was in at that very moment. Toga Himiko was to see Dr. Teshima every tuesday, though the Augur had a sneaking suspicion that he was unlikely to find her there. She also attended Hyogo Junior High School, and was in her second to last year prior to this case. It was times like this that he remembered, this girl was only fourteen. The Augur felt sick at the thought, images of bloody and bitten cadavers running through his mind. He had dissected each and every one of them, and to know… to know this was done by a _child._ He shook his head as he read, trying to escape his own thoughts. Part of him hoped this entire interview was a wild goose chase, and that the actual perpetrator was someone else.

He quickly read through the rest of the paperwork, walking silently beside Mrs. Igarashi, but was disappointed by how little new information was contained within. He shouldn't have been; it wasn't like school reports and a foster care file would tell him where she went. But her trail had been cold for months; there hadn't been a single new murder that fit all the criteria of the others since April. She could be anywhere, and he didn't have the slightest clue where to start! The Augur clamped his mouth shut, holding back a growl.

His gaze froze over the last section.

'_Family History'_

All of his anger disappeared under a tidal wave of icy dread. He didn't want to read it. He didn't want to know. She was a target. A suspect. Nothing more. It was useless to his case. So he shouldn't read it.

But his eyes ignored him.

_Biological father: Toga Hitomu, deceased. _

_Biological mother: Toga Fuyuko, currently incarcerated in Nagoya National Prison. _

_Biological siblings: none._

"Does she have any grandparents?"

"Huh?" Mrs. Igarashi glanced over, and it took the Augur a moment to realize he had said it aloud. He coughed, clearing his throat and speaking in a stronger tone.

"Toga Himiko; Does she have any extended family?"

Igarashi gave his an odd look. "Are you planning to interview them?"

"Perhaps, should it prove necessary." The lie slipped out easily enough. He knew he wasn't going to interview them. He knew he didn't need this information for the investigation. But, as a person, he wanted to know.

"I don't think it will, but…" The woman thought for a moment, collecting the various details from the various filing cabinets inside her skull. "She does, yes, as well as an aunt on her father's side."

"Why didn't they take care of her?" He tried, but he couldn't help the poisonous anger leaking into his voice. He knew he was in no position to judge, but… but to leave a child alone in the world? No mother or father, trapped in the hell that was the foster care system? He just couldn't imagine anything that could justify it.

Igarashi sighed somberly, and nodded in unspoken agreement with his anger. "I don't know all of the details; the social workers are the ones to handle that. But apparently the grandparents are both in too bad of a condition to care for a child, and the aunt…" She scowled, waving away the unanswered question. "Well, I can't legally explain the details, but even foster care is a better situation than her aunt's home would've been."

The Augur scowled, and folded up the papers, placing them in his breast pocket. He couldn't imagine what situation she was imagining, but sadly, not for a lack of options. He had seen many situations in the past he'd rather not have seen. Maybe he had just lived in the world of crime for too long, but… it wasn't hard for him to piece together a half dozen possibilities, none of which were pleasant. He just wished his brain would've asked for permission before doing it, because the last thing he wanted on his mind was sob stories about a girl he was supposed to be hunting down. He couldn't help her; the damage had already been done. So what was the point in trying to figure out what ghosts haunted her?

"Here we are." Mrs. Igarashi opened to door to a small office, furnished with various small, fluffy chairs and low lighting. Decorated with tie-dye canvass and lit by only a few orange lamps, it felt more like a druggies hang out room than a proper office, but the filing cabinets and desk tucked into the corner begged to differ. "This is my office, so feel free to interview her here as long as necessary. This is Suzuki Aimi." Igarashi gestured towards a blond girl in one of the chairs, who nervously waved in greeting.

"Thank you. This should only take a few minutes." The Augur shook Mrs. Igarashi's hand, before the plump lady left the office, closing the door behind her. Dropping himself down in the chair across from Suzuki, the Augur grunted, and flipped open his briefcase.

Let's see… Notepad… Pen… Recorder… One after another, he took out his materials, setting them on the wooden side table beside him. Anything else? The case file, that might be useful-

"Um, hello..?" The Augur's brown eyes shot up, glaring at the girl in front of him. A petite thing, she looked skinny as a twig, with dyed blond hair tied up in a ponytail and enough makeup on her pale face to make a kabuki actor look like they were only using natural undertones. Popping pink makeup, heavy eyeshadow, and a large bow in her hair, not to mention the leg warmers and large scarf. She scowled at him, watching with a mixture of irritation and boredom.

The investigator groaned internally, already dreading this interview. He hated kids; but trendy kids were even worse.

"Yes?"

"Who are you?" She twirled her hair around one finger, a crossed her legs.

"The Augur, a member of the Criminal Affairs Bureau." His tone was dry and flat, hiding his irritation and disdain underneath layers of professionalism.

"You're doing, like, an investigation?"

"Indeed." Well, at least she figured that out. Had Igarashi not informed her of the purpose of this interview?

"So why are you talking to me? I haven't done anything wrong. Well, uh… nothing _that _illegal." Suzuki fidgeted in her seat, forcing her scowl to stay in place even as her eyes, specifically avoided him.

Nothing '_that' _illegal? Now what could that me- No, you know what, nevermind. Not his priority. Teenagers did dumb shit, and if that meant this girl drank underage or something, he really didn't care. He had more important things to deal with. He shook his head, groaning, and flicked on his recorder.

"This is the Augur, of the Special Investigations Squad. Today is June fourteenth. Please state your name, age, and occupation for the record."

"Like, my actual name?" The girl raised an eyebrow, as though the Augur was asking for her mother's maiden name.

"Your legal name, yes." He pulled out his notepad, and scribbled a bit in the top corner. Yep, the pen worked. Good.

"Tch." She clicked her tongue, and rolled her eyes. "Suzuki Aimi. But my Hero name's a lot cuter."

"Fascinating. Your age and occupation, please." Yeah, yeah, get all that snark out of your system now. Thank the lord Tsuruko was never like this. He would've been arrested for murder.

"Buzzkill." She gave him a deadpan stare, which he returned in kind. But then, a smirk crossed her face. "Almost fifteen, and a hero in the making!"

He opened his mouth to ask her to clarify, but… Nevermind. He honestly didn't care enough to play ball.

"Ok, ok, sure." Her satisfied smile died on her face as he ignored her. Good. So long as she answered the questions, he didn't care how she felt. "Let's see… Question one. What was your relationship with Toga Himiko?"

"Wait, this is about Himiko?" Any sense of composure Suzuki had went up in flames, her eyes wide and panicked. "I- I did not agree to this!" She shifted underneath the Augur's cold glare, halfway between pretending she was fine and shooting for the door.

The Augur simply leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and squaring his shoulders. "Please just answer the question."

"She's a crazed freak!" She tugged at her scarf, pulling it up. "What do you expect me to say?"

"What was your relationship with Toga Himiko?" Cold and dry. Leave no escape route, and they will sit. Leave nothing else to talk about, and they will answer the question.

There were a few moments of dead, oppressive silence. Had he been twenty years younger, the Augur would've felt the urge to say something. Now, he just enjoyed the silence while it lasted. Suzuki, on the other hand, was stiff and tense as an uncooked noodle.

A noodle? Really? He needed to get breakfast. And damn, a coffee would be nice. It didn't even need to be a cup of the good stuff. Just _some _coffee. Maybe a sandwich would be-

"Her friend, I guess?" The Augur's wandering eyes snapped towards Suzuki, who looked significantly smaller and less in control than before. "She, uh… she hung out around me and my friends a lot."

Thank the lord, she already cracked. Witnesses with a sense of pride drove him insane. Now, maybe, he could actually collect some useful information.

"Did she ever show any unusual behavior?"

"Oh, other then trying to cut my neck open?" Suzuki crossed her arms, and held her nose up, but the Augur kept completely still. Just let her steep in her own nervousness. Her eyes darted back and forth, begging for a reaction, but the investigator just lazily blinked. "... Uh, yes."

"What sorts of behaviors?"

"Well…" The girl chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying to recall the specifics. "... A lot of small things. Like, small, but totally freaky. Like, uh… she had this thing with drawing bodies. Not people. Bodies. And she'd always be labeling all of the blood vessels on it."

The Augur raised an eyebrow. Most certainly not 'normal' behavior, but far from confirming that this girl would be willing to kill people in back alleys. "Why would you consider this unusual?"

"I guess if it were someone else… then it wouldn't be a big deal." She bit her lip, and avoided his dark stare. "But this was Himiko. Like, this was the girl I saw playing with dead animals when she thought no one was looking. Oh, and I once caught her drinking her own blood. And her weird obsession with knives. She was super into them, like, she asked me to buy her one for her birthday. _Specifically_ me. And-"

"Wait, wait, wait." The Augur interrupted her, beginning to jot down notes. "That part about about her drinking blood."

"Huh?"

"Please explain in more depth."

"Oh, uh…" The girl took a moment, attempting to restart her crashed train of thought. "Like, you know when you cut yourself, and kinda lick the blood away so you don't bleed on everything?"

"Yes." He quirked an eyebrow, but wrote it down anyway. '_Licked her own wounds; apparently of note to her friend.'_

"It wasn't anything like that. I need to just say that first." She spat out the words, and the Augur scowled, scribbling out his previous note. "No, one time, I woke up in the middle of the night, and I heard this weird sound. Like, a slurping sound. I flicked on the lights, and…" Her words petered out, as though they simply refused to be spoken, and the Augur couldn't restrain a worried scowl. As much of a pain she was being, this was still a girl who had lived through a traumatizing experience, and he knew he wasn't being the most graceful at discussing the topic.

Sadly, he was no therapist, and he wasn't going to develop those skill on the fly. The only thing he could do was shat he knew how, and that mostly consisted of legal codes of conduct, and being brutally stubborn.

"Please continue."

"I…" She stumbled with her words, messily piecing them together as she went like a terrified poet. "I don't know exactly what happened. But it was everywhere. On her face. On the bed. The floor, too. Her teeth, her big-ass fangs, they were just doused in blood. Like, I didn't even know a person could _have _that much blood. Her arms were all torn up. I don't even know where she got the knife. And… and the scariest part,_ she was smiling._"

Horror wasn't a strong enough word to describe what the Augur was feeling, and terror wasn't specific enough. No, what he felt, the twisted knot in the pit of his stomach, was an acidic concoction of shock, horror, and dread. The sort that one felt after seeing the rotting remains of a dog that was run over, all of its limbs crushed and bones snapped, yet having somehow managed to drag itself off of the road before it died.

He blinked, shaking himself out of his shock. He was an investigator, dammit! Focus! Get your job done! He pressed the pen into his notepad, trying to ignore how his hand was shaking. "How… How old were you at the time?"

"Like… twelve, I think?" She tugged at her hair, her hands desperate for a distraction. "After that, she started going to therapy. But… it didn't help."

"Please explain." The Augur spoke on autopilot, almost entirely focused on writing down notes. He could review his notes later, if need be, but he wanted to get these notes down here and now.

"Wait, are you serious? Like, did you even hear what she did? Look at what she did to me!" Without a moment of hesitation, she tore her scarf off, revealing her neck.

A neck covered in pale, jagged scars.

The Augur's pen froze, and he leaned closer, scanning the scars. The air was thick, as though breaking the silence would shatter reality itself, and with a slow hand, the Augur began writing.

'_Heavy scarring on neck + nape; cause appears to be many slashing cuts rather than any stabbing cuts, much like other victims.'_ He hesitated for a moment, before tagging last thing to the end. '_No conclusive connection, though.'_

Maybe, just maybe, Ms. Toga was innocent. Knives were common weapons, and despite the obvious similarities involving blood… He could still hope.

The girl was far too young for a life sentence.

"So, please describe the situation in which she attacked you." Despite his internal hesitation, he maintained a layer of cool professionalism.

"Well, like... Himiko had a crush on me, I think." The girl frowned, almost… guiltily? "It was one of those things you just, like, _felt_. And, a few months ago… She, uh, she confessed to me." He could hear the regret and fear mixing in her voice, an odd combination he hadn't seen very often. At least, not like this.

"Did you accept?"

Suzuki's eyes shot up, angry and defensive. "Do I look like a dyke? No, scratch that, do I look like a masochist? I value my life, thanks."

The Augur didn't respond, only delivering a harsh glare. After a few moments, the girl groaned, and continued.

"Anyway, no. No I didn't. And, she…" The regret returned to her eyes, dragging down her angry spirit. "She cracked, or something. Like, she just broke down crying. And then, she pulled a knife, and… do I really have to explain what's next?"

"I cannot force you to, no." As much as he preferred to know everything the witness knew, and was more that comfortable forcing every bit of information out of them most days… He wasn't sure he wanted to today. He sighed, and clicked off his recorder. "Well, Ms…" He glanced down at the file. "... Suzuki, thank you for your cooperation. Please have a good day." With weary, but well practice movements, the investigator began to pack his briefcase. That was a lot of information. Not any new leads, not other than the therapist, but… Even if this girl wasn't guilty, she most certainly had a lot of issues to confront.

And the fact that he couldn't help her… It made his chest hurt. He had never been able to help anyone. Not the murder victims, not the people whose lives had been ruined by criminals, not even the suspects themselves. When all was said and done, all that was left was a scattering of broken people, and the only thing he could do was… was throw one or two of them in jail.

He felt Suzuki's brown eyes burning into him. Without turning to look, he spoke up. "Did you have something to say?"

She just watched for a few moments more, before the Augur turned to face her. A reluctant scowl crossed her face, but she spoke without any of the fear or regret of before. "... She's scary, you know that, right? Like, literally insane."

The Augur narrowed his eyes, and leaned back against the desk, crossing his arms. "Yes, I am aware."

"Good. It's important. But…" Suzuki's voice softened. "... Can I make a request?"

A request? This better not be some call for revenge. He was an investigator, not an executioner. "That depends on the request."

She bit her lip balm-coated lip, and nodded. "Yeah, I know, but… Look, there's a lot wrong with Toga. But, I feel, deep down, she's still… she's a good person. A good person with a lot of issues. Issues that I did nothing to help."

"Oh?" It seemed this girl was not exactly the best of friends, was she? The Augur's frown grew larger.

"Be quiet." She spat back at the investigator, gritting her teeth. "Look, it's been a few months, and looking back, I realize I treated her like shit, ok? Is that good enough for you?"

All the man gave was a noncommittal shrug. He could answer, but he doubted his words would comfort her; even he knew forgiving was not one of the virtues associated with his name. "I didn't say anything of the sort."

"Uh-huh, sure." She glared at him, a much hotter and angrier sort than the sort the Augur had, before looking away and swallowing her pride. "Either way… Look, just-... Just bring her back. I don't know why you're looking for her, but she just needs help. So, please… When you catch her, please don't just lock her up. Help her."

"I can't do that." His response was quick and cold.

"What?" She whipped towards him, shouting. "You're not even going to pretend to think about it?"

"Ms. Suzuki, I don't need to think about it." He scowled, a stone settling at the bottom of his gut. He wished he could consider, but... "You're confusing me with a hero. I'm an investigator. You want me to save people. But my job… My only job is to catch them."

And he hated it.

)ooOoo(

Knives were comforting.

Himiko wasn't sure why, not really; they just felt right to her. She liked the way they fit so comfortably into the palm of her hand, like old friends holding hands. But that didn't quite capture how it felt. Maybe the most important part was… the familiarity? She only had two knives, but they meant more to her than any other. No other knife could take their place. Other knives always felt unbalanced and clumsy in her hands, like a new and unfamiliar toy. But toys are only worth the person that had given it.

And that's why, despite how large and alien this new knife was to Himiko, she wanted more than anything to learn how to use it.

"Ow!" Himiko yelped, the chef's knife clattering onto the cutting board as she tried to shake the pain out of her hand. She stared at her finger for a moment, small beads of blood seeping out of the cut, before kissing the crimson liquid away.

"Oh, be careful!" Mrs. Midoriya rushed to the girl's side as quickly as her short legs would let her, practically dropping her spoon in the pot of soup. "Is your finger alright?"

Mrs. Midoriya's evergreen eyes darted back and forth in mild panic, searching for anything and everything that could go wrong, and Himiko couldn't help but giggle. So was this where Izu-kun got it? She popped her finger out of her mouth, looking it over, before displaying it with pride. "Yep, all okay! Does it look cute?"

Mrs. Midoriya was quick to snatch up Himiko's hand, searching it for any other blemishes. But after half a minute of searching, she sighed, and gave a worried smile. "Of course you're cute." She nodded towards the sink, still not letting go of the girl's hand. "Now, let's get it cleaned out, just in case."

"Sure!" Himiko followed without complaint, rinsing out the cut and only whimpering a little when the woman wiped it with an alcohol swab. But soon, the bandaid was on, and the two arrived back at the cutting board.

"Now, remember," Mrs. Midoriya cradled the knife in one hand, and held the carrot in place with the other. "You have to be careful! Knives can be dangerous. Make sure to hold your hand like this." She rolled her her fingers up like a cat's paw, and Himiko watched with fascination. "When you hold it like this, you keep your fingers safe. Do you want to try?"

"Uh-huh!" Himiko excitedly took the knife from Mrs. Midoriya, hunching over the cutting board and chewing on her tongue in concentration. She curled up her fingers, and tried to hold the carrot in place like Mrs. Midoriya had shown her. She looked it over for a brief moment, making small corrections on her own, before glancing up. "Like this?"

"Well, almost…" The older lady reached out, readjusting Himiko's hands. Himiko knew it wasn't what she was supposed to be focusing on, but… she took a moment just to savor the feeling of Mrs. Midoriya's hands. They were round, and soft, and… and warm. Friendly hands.

Loving hands.

Himiko fought the urge to hug the woman then and there.

"There!' Mrs. Midoriya smiled warmly, and took a step back, before plucking up her wooden spoon and returning to the soup she had been working on. "Now, would you be a dear and finish chopping those vegetables for me?"

"Sure!" A genuine smile spread across Himiko's face, her chest feeling warm and happy. She gave a huge thumbs-up, and set to work chopping onions and carrots, humming to some melody only she could hear. Her gaze travelled over to the large, steaming pot of steaming brown soup, and the scents of simmering miso and fried tofu filled her nose.

The way her chest felt, at that moment, could only be described with one word: joy. Over the past few weeks, it had almost become a nightly tradition for her to help prepare dinner with the woman, and… and it felt special. Nice. Not like when she tasted blood, or even spent time with Izu-kun. No, it was a different type of nice. Like how a puzzle piece felt after finally being clicked into place. That thought only made her smile more.

But suddenly, a question popped into her head.

"Mrs. Midoriya, where's Mr. Midoriya?"

The woman paused for a moment, her hand frozen in mid-stir. There were a few moments of silence, the woman's eyes never leaving the swirling brown soup.

"Mrs. Midoriya?" Himiko frowned, concern and curiosity mixing together in her yellow eyes.

"Huh?" The green-haired woman shook her head, as though escaping a dream. She glanced up from the soup, smiling in that sad way Himiko didn't like seeing anyone smile in. The sort of someone who had given up. "Hisashi is abroad on business right now. Or… That's what he's told me." Mrs. Midoriya's gaze drifted away, leaving a heavy silence around them. Neither of them spoke, leaving only simmering soups and the clacking of a knife against wood to fill the silence.

He was on a business trip? Well, Himiko supposed it made some sense. But in the three months she had been with the family, she hadn't seen him once. In fact, Izu-kun hadn't even mentioned him. Did… did Izu-kun not like his dad? She knew some people did, as hard as it was for her to imagine. And he didn't seem like he could truly _hate _anyone. Then again… There was a lot about him she knew she didn't know. He was a horrible liar, but that didn't stop him from lying to her. Or just not telling her.

Himiko didn't want to think about that.

Or... Did Mr. Midoriya just leave them? That was… well, less hard to imagine. She bit her lip, and smoothly sliced through another onion.

"What about your family?" Mrs. Midoriya spoke up, her voice laced with forced cheerfulness. "Do you have any siblings?"

"Hm?" Himiko's head shot up, snapping her out of her own, cloudy thoughts. "Nope! But, I think Mama always wanted a son, too."

A more natural chuckle escaped Mrs. Midoriya's lips, the knowing sort. "So, are you expecting to have a little brother sometime?"

Himiko giggled, hiding her teeth with one hand. "No, I don't think so. But I wonder what it would be like to have one…" She brought a finger to her chin, her eyes wandering. Would he have blond hair too? And what would his quirk be? Himiko had Papa's honeydew-colored eyes, with thin, feline pupils, but maybe her brother would have deep red ones, like Mama. She'd never have a little brother, but she still wanted to hug him!

"Oh, could you go fetch Izuku?" Mrs. Midoriya tapped her spoon against the edge of the pot, shaking off just a bit of soup. "Dinner should be ready in a few minutes, so could you two set the table?"

"Okay!" The knife carelessly clattered onto the countertop, and the blonde was out of the kitchen almost instantly. Normally, Izu-kun would change his clothes after training and come out to the dining room to work on his homework, where Himiko would watch him out of the corner of her eye as she worked. But tonight, he had never come back out. She peeked around the corner, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes as she spotted the boy's closed door.

Now what could he be up to? A teenage boy, hiding alone in his room, with the door closed? She didn't need to think of possibilities for long. With girl over, nonetheless? Oh, how daring of him! She licked her lips, a plan already forming in her mind.

But then she noticed something.

Didn't his door have a plaque on it before? An off kilter frown spread across her face, and she cocked her head. It had been small and cute, with All Might's long, rabbit-like tufts of blond hair, and Izuku's name written across it in marker.

Slipping around the corner, Himiko tiptoed towards the room, a cat stalking towards what may or may not be it's next meal. The door opened with little more than a small '_click,' _and she peered around the corner, only her curious eyes entering the room.

And there was Izu-kun, sitting in the middle of the room and packing boxes. Himiko slowly pushed the door open, but the green-haired boy was so engorged in his work that he didn't even notice. He slid a book off of a stack nearly as tall as he was, a concentrated frown twisting his lips as his emerald eyes traversed the description. She could see the gears spinning behind his eyes, lists of pros and cons being drawn up on some internal whiteboard, before he tossed the book in a box labeled '_donate,' _and grabbed another book off of the pile.

Each of the girl's steps was carefully placed, navigating over and around the piles of hero merchandise spread across the floor. Each and every bit, the posters and action figures, the comic books and binders, even his curtains, were pulled down and neatly organized around the floor, waiting to be sorted into one of three boxes: '_donate,' 'trash,' _or _'keep_.'

The third box was completely empty, except for a few composition notebooks.

Himiko knew what he was doing. That was the easy part. But… why? She bit her lip, and stepped behind him, reading the book over his shoulder.

'_The ultimate hero guide! Hero files, hero history, and, most importantly, a step-by-step guide for any young hero-in-the-making!'_

"Any..?" He spoke softly, his voice filled with a heart wrenching mixture of betrayal and restrained anger. Izu-kun's hand was shaking, and and concern leaked into Himiko's eyes as she watched him shove the book in the trash box. Why would he do this? He loved heroes, didn't he? Himiko might not like heroes, but she liked Izu-kun, and… and seeing Izu-kun's wholehearted love and admiration of them, his boundless determination and steadfast hope, it had always brought a smile to her face. Her insides felt twisted and nasty, like a tangled up knot of rotting seaweed, and her lips refused to stay silent.

"Whatcha doin'?" She leaned right next to his ear, completely casual.

"Wha-!" The boy jumped, a scream escaping his lips as he spun towards her. "Toga? How did you get in here?"

"Walking, of course!" Himiko giggled, wiggling her toes as if she needed to prove their existence. Her humorous smile softened, weighed down by the dread in her stomach, and her gaze drifted towards the boxes Izu-kun had been packing. "Sooo… what's with the boxes?"

"Well, uh… I'm sorting." He scooted away from the blonde, trying to maintain what Himiko could only imagine he considered 'a safe distance.' She shifted closer, stubbornly choosing to ignore it. After all, she wasn't _that _dangerous. Not right now, at least.

"Why?" She plucked an All Might action figure out of the '_donate_' box, fiddling with it as she watched the boy's brain rush to piece together answers. Right now wasn't the time to be thinking about it, but part of her couldn't help but enjoy seeing how cute he was when he panicked.

"... Well, I, uh, I think…" Izu-kun's tongue fumbled, attempting to find the words. "I think I've come to a realization. It's, uh, it's something you kinda already told me, in some ways…"

Something she had already told him? She glanced around the room, and up at the walls. They looked so blank and lonely without the posters, while the bookshelves were empty and sad. It… it looked like when she moved between families when she was younger. She hadn't done it for a few years, thankfully; families stopped choosing her after a while. Mrs. Igarashi never admitted it, but Himiko knew the medical section always scared away potential foster families.

But when she had been moving around… remembering it made her mouth taste bitter, and her heart feel hollow. Whenever she had to leave another home, give up on another family, accept another failure… her room had looked like this. Torn apart, everything she had brought or made ripped off the walls and sorted into boxes. Some to go with her. Most to go with the garbage collector. It looked like a cracked and abandoned hermit crab shell, it's occupant freshly torn out and eaten by a seagull.

What had she told him that would make him do this? And… did Izu-kun feel like that hermit crab?

A questioning frown crossed her face, and she sat down more comfortably, criss-crossing her legs. The green-haired boy wrung his hands, looking at the boxes merchandise for answers. His gaze flickered upwards, nervously asking for permission to continue, but she simply stared back, letting the unspoken question linger in the air. Which question? Himiko didn't know. There were far too many to ask.

"Toga, you said that heroes can't save everyone. But…" He let out a deep breath, and forced himself to meet Himiko's eyes. "But, in some ways, I think it's more than that. Sometimes they hurt people. Innocent people. And… and everyone just ignores it."

"Yeah?" She absently played with the All Might action figure, but her eyes never strayed from Izu-kun's face. There were a few moments of silence, Izu-kun staring at her in anxious anticipation. Was he expecting her to be angry? Or deny it?

"W-what do you mean, 'yeah?'" The words tumbled out of his mouth, confused and unrestrained. "It's wrong!"

"But… it's always been like that." Himiko rolled her head from one side to the other, a light frown on her lips. Why was he making such a big deal about it? It's what heroes did, really. Hurting people was their job. "You knew that before, didn't you? But you still wanted to be a hero."

"I know, it was so easy to see, but… But I ignored it. Just like everyone else..." Izu-kun shrunk away, as though trying to hide from Himiko's questions. Or maybe his shame? Himiko honestly couldn't tell. Hide from something, at least. But then, he steadied himself, and grit his teeth. At the sight of the steel in his soft green eyes, Himiko perked up a bit, her heart skipping a beat. "And… And I can't accept it! Heroes shouldn't be allowed to act like villains just because they're special!" Izu-kun raised his voice, his typically nervous demeanor melting away to reveal layers of bitter rage. "Heroes are supposed to protect people, but... they're always hurting people! And I hate it!"

His outburst was met with dead silence, the girl staring at him in shock. He was shaking, his eyes filled with murderous intent like a wine glass overflowing with blood. Izu-kun was such a quiet boy, a nervous little thing that had never so much as raised his voice before. He was the sort that would rather let her win than risk hurting her, and would gladly let someone cut in front of him in line. He was the soft-spoken, gentle sort that Himiko so adored. So, to see him like this, so furious and aggressive…

… He really was a wolf, wasn't he?

She frowned, but it was the thin sort that hid her thoughts rather than showed them, and closed the distance between them. Cupping his cheek with one hand, she whispered right into his ear.

"... Do you hate heroes?"

"Huh?" Izu-kun stiffened like a board, the anger in his voice fizzling. "N-no! I... I just…" His words petered out like a sputtering engine.

"I'd understand if you do." Her words were smooth and sharp, like a knife being dragged across Izu-kun's skin. "I hate them."

"W-what?" She could hear the fear in his voice, the hesitance.

"Heroes are liars, Izu-kun." Himiko's smile disappeared, and a growl slipped from her lips. "They say they'll protect you, but they won't. They promise to make things easier, but they just make things harder. They-" Her voice caught in her throat, and her eyes burned.

Don't cry.

Don't cry.

Crying isn't cute.

He won't understand. Even if he says stuff like this, he can't understand. No one understands. If she told him, he'd abandon her. Just like everyone else had. And… and she didn't want that.

"... They'll smile, even as they tear away everything you love." The choked back the tidal wave of words threatening to pour from her mouth.

She pushed herself off of him, turning to leave. She shouldn't have come. Not to his house. Not to train him. Not to that building where she had met him. She should've just stayed away. Izu-kun might think heroes aren't perfect, but he's bound to be just like everyone else. She had become so obsessed with finding someone that might understand her, that she forgot no one could. She was a monster, remember? She could only hurt people.

Himiko knew how this would end. It always ended the same way. In a back alley, covered in blood. The person that, just days before, had been so kind and friendly, screaming and crying. Calling her insane. Calling her a monster. She clenched her jaw, and tried to ignore how much her eyes stung.

Was it wrong to want someone to love her?

Himiko began stumbling towards the door, bound for… somewhere else. Away. Somewhere where she could be alone. Somewhere that sold popsicles.

But then, a hand caught her wrist.

"If that's how you feel… w-why did you want to help me become one?" The wolf from moments before was gone, his confidence having dissipated. There was the Izu-kun she knew. The one that fumbled with his words. The one completely uncertain in himself. The one that jumped at shadows and bought her snacks every day.

The one she was bound to hurt eventually.

"Because…" His eyes. His tears. The way she could see his soul aching through all of his little twitches and tongue bumbles. The clouds that filled his eyes and the words poured out in red ink. "Life looked too hard for you."

They were the same. She knew they were the same. They had been laughed at, kicked around, and abandoned. But they were different, too. He was a victim, but she was just a monster. Tears, salty and hot, rolled down her cheeks.

"Toga… Y-you're right." He pulled at her arm, but she refused to budge. Refused to look at him. Refused to show him her makeup-stained face. "Life is hard. And I owe you my life."

"What?" She whipped around, not bothering to cage the wild fear and desperation in her voice. She tried to pull away, but he just wouldn't let go, his grip as solid as stone.

"If it wasn't for you, I would've jumped that night." Himiko squeezed her eyes trying to shut him out. "And, even if it wasn't that night… it would've happened eventually. But you gave me a chance. And I want to use that chance to make thing better for… for people like _us_."

She didn't want to hear this. It couldn't be real. His voice might sound genuine, but the words could never be true. He might be alive, but not for long. Her love was toxic, melting anything it came in contact with. Friends, family, crushes. All of them, they threw her away after they realized what she was. She didn't want to hear his lies, the ones that told her that she could love someone. Because she couldn't. To pretend she could… It was just like the syrup she forced down her own throat, sweet and happy and _fake_.

But that one word.

'_Us.'_

She looked past her pain, and at the boy in front of her. Large, green eyes, laced with concern, and a face that was so red he might have had a fever. The boy that… that didn't want her to leave.

She stopped pulling, but he still didn't let go.

"Right now, heroes are all about power, and money, and popularity, and…" Izu-kun swallowed, choking down the emotions that were flooding the room. "... And that's not what being a hero is about. Being a hero is about helping people, and making the world a better place. Making it an easier place to live in. So… When I become a hero, I'm going to do just that."

Himiko hated heroes. She hated how hypocritical they were, and self-obsessed, and how, even after all of that, they still failed to do what they promised. When Izu-kun had said he wanted to be a hero, she prayed that he might understand that. Over the past few months, that hope had been dying, even as Izuku got stronger. That feeling of being alone, that hole in her heart that screamed for blood, it only grew larger and larger the more time she spent with him. She had gambled on a snowball's chance in hell. And yet, miraculously, she had won.

Words couldn't describe the elation in her chest at the thought.

"Promise me." She grabbed back, dragging him closer. Her nails dug into his flesh, and her large yellow eyes burrowed into his soul.

"Huh?" He caught his balance, their faces only centimeters apart.

"Promise me you'll do it. That's you'll make the world better." A large, toothy smile split her face in two. "No matter what."

He stared at her for a moment, trying to recover from the mental whiplash. But then, he steeled himself, a determined smile coming to his face. "... I promise."

She had to stop herself from stabbing him then and there.

Himiko had done it.

She had found her wolf.

**A/N: *calmly puts down a coffee cup, and points at it***

**Do you see this? I've had… seven. Yeah, seven of them. I think. I am so sleep deprived and over caffeinated, I no longer experience petty sensations such as "tired." But the writing schedule has been maintained. I'm considering making a Twitter or something, just to keep you guys updated in case I die of exhaustion or something. Just in case. Thoughts?**

**I wrote this in two days.**

_**8500 words. In two days.**_

**I'm done.**

***I blackout before my head even hits the desk***

**AO3: **

**This is such a toxic relationship: I have a thing for toxic relationships, I think; the sort that's messed up on every level, and is morally abhorrent, but… works? I'm gonna lay this straight out: don't dream of being in this relationship. It's not supposed to be a healthy relationship. And thus, while writing, I'm not meaning to make this seem like a healthy relationship. But… I want to still make this a *good* relationship, if that makes sense? **

**Draph91: Uh… no. Or, at least, not yet. Patience, my friend; we all want to see Izuku snap. But good things come to those who wait.**

**FFN:**

**GhostOnyx777: Jesus, that's a lot of theorizing! I love it! But, as much as it breaks my heart to say it, I can't answer any of your questions… They're ALL major spoilers. I'll just say this: This story has three main characters, and all of them have major arcs planned out for them. I have this big poster in my room, a solid 130-some centimeters long, that is just DOUSED in layers upon layers of ink marking plots, arcs, and major events. I'd show you proof, but that in itself is spoilers galore. **

**LordGhostStriker: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HELL YEAH CHANGE IS A-COMIN'!**

** TeamDimension8: Thank you, but… You're honestly giving me more credit than I deserve; This ain't gold, and I have no doubt that there's someone out there who can write it better than me. I'm just a guy with a laptop, way too much free time, and possibly the most pessimistic outlook on life a person can have without deciding to learn how to tie a proper hangman's noose. Oh, and a messed up sense of humor. That too. But, I'm gonna try my best to keep it up! One of the reasons I decided to write this was, I'd be reading a villaindeku fic, and Izuku would do something crazy and insane out of the blue, and I'd just be sitting there like… "Huh?" Like, that wasn't Izuku. That was a misery-porn self-insert power fantasy. And, is that wrong? No! Write what you wanna write. But I wanted to read a story that had complicated moral connotations, the sort that will make a person sit down and ask "... Could I do that? If put in those circumstances, what would I do? And… what does that mean about me?" So, I thought, if I want to read that, then maybe others do too? And here I am, almost three months later, doing… well, hopefully doing just that. I'm honestly not sure yet. So, this ain't gold. It ain't meant to be. It's just meant to be food for thought.**

**On a final note… Jesus, that's a lot of comments. And not just a lot; a lot of really encouraging and well thought out comments. I feel awful, but I really just **_**can't **_**respond to all of them. I owe you guys a story, and that means I gotta write more than just responses. But I'll promise you this: I'm gonna try and to respond to a few in every chapter, especially if I haven't seen you post before. I'm so sorry, and thank you for all of the support!**


	11. Chapter 11

The sun's warm beams poured over the Augur's face, clean and rejuvenating.

Leaning back in the metal sunchair, he basked in the early afternoon light, a pen resting in one hand and a paper cup of coffee in the other. And, for once, he allowed his mind to wander.

Oddly enough, he was relaxed; not mindlessly tired, or lethargic to the point of exhausted, but truly and entirely relaxed. It was a strange sensation. Not the sort that was truly 'alien' to him, just the sort that he hadn't experienced for so long, it felt odd. Like when he had found his old school uniform when packing up his apartment, a few months ago. Putting it on, it felt nice; if fit well, and was surprisingly comfortable, despite how long it had been shoved in a box. But… it felt like he didn't belong. It was from a different chapter of his life, a chapter that had long since finished. So, wearing it was nice, but… in that melancholy way. It brought back a lot of memories, ones he spent the entire afternoon sorting through alongside all of his stuff.

High school… that had been so long ago. Ok, so, he had graduated high school at eighteen; then he moved to Tokyo for a four year degree in forensic sciences. Another six months in officers' training, and then his time in the Koto police department…

God, even _that_ seemed like ages ago. The amount of people he could remember from his time in Koto could be counted on one hand. Toshinori... the department head... his cubicle mate… The forensics expert? A face came to mind, but the it didn't feel right. No, that was the forensics expert for the Tokyo Department. Was... was that really everyone he remembered from that time? Other than his aunt, that is. But that's… a different situation. He had to have been in his twenties at the time, but it felt like centuries ago. After the Koto department, he worked in the Tokyo department, and then there was Tsuruko's case, and…

He was fifty now. Fifty-one, actually. He was probably closer to his death date than his birth date. Every day seemed mindlessly slow, not to mention insanely busy, but still… All of the time simply seemed to disappear. Sand slipping between his fingers, ignoring his desperate attempts to just slow down and catch his breath. What had he been doing all of this time? What had he been doing a year ago, at this very moment? He took a moment, trying to scrape together any answer he could, but... but there wasn't one.

Well, not one he liked. There was one, far more likely than all of the others. He had probably been behind a desk, exhausted and over caffeinated, attempting to piece together some investigation.

"How ya doing over there?" His eyes flickered open in response to Tsuruko's voice, but the rest of him remained still as stone. A very heavy, relaxed stone. A sigh slipped past his lips, but for perhaps the first time in ages, he simply sounded whimsical, rather irritated and dead tired.

"Alive."

"That's always nice." Tsuruko grinned, shrugging in that _'you're-not-technically-wrong' _way, but her eyes never left her laptop screen. "But next time you're not, tell me how it feels. A lot of people are curious."

The Augur chuckled, sounding slightly less dead than usual. "I'll make sure to. And how about you?"

"Well, I'm not taking a nap in the sunlight, if that's your question." She tapped a few keys on her keyboard, before jotting down a few notes on her notepad. "This case…" She groaned, and simply shook her head, looking prepared to simply die on the spot. "It's like the guns never even go through customs. They're just showing up in Kyushu, and we have no idea why. Not to mention, ending up in the hands of so many small groups… there has to be a supplier…" The pen carelessly dropped from her hands, clattering against the glass table, and she resumed typing.

The Augur waited a moment, expecting her to continue, but the pair simply lapsed into silence. They were like this a lot, it seemed, just sitting in silence. He raised the disposable coffee cup to his lips, nursing the bitter liquid as he stared at his partner.

Watching her work so hard, the Augur couldn't help but swell with pride. It was a warm sensation, just as refreshing as the sunlight on his skin, and the sort that brought the barest of smiles to his lips. He supposed, in the past twenty years, there was only one thing he was really proud of. Only one person he had truly helped.

But then again, seeing the bags under her eyes... she looked like a shattered vase, held together by nothing other than stress and willpower. And he wouldn't say he was proud of that.

Like father, like daughter, he supposed. Well, as accurately as they could be described by that statement.

His smile faltered, and he found his eyes wandering. Settled at a small, circular table on the sidewalk, there was a cafe on one side of them and a street on the other. The sky was a vivid blue, not a single cloud blocking the sun's sweltering rays, and the air swirled with the smells of fresh coffee and car exhaust. Cars rumbled past, and the investigator listlessly listened to the undertones of quiet conversation and soft music of the open air cafe. All around them were college students and young office workers, dressed in all manners of colors and styles. And here were the two of them, dressed in various shades of black and far from casual, a pair of ravens hiding amongst the colorful Amazonian flock. Tsuruko had chosen to sit in the awning's cool shade, but the Augur purposefully decided to remain under the summer sun, despite his pinstripe business suit.

Returning to Osaka, the 'summer' part was what surprised him. In the months since he had last been here, Tokyo had reached the tipping point between summer and fall; too cool to truly be considered summer any more but still long before the leaves started to turn. So, to return to Osaka and find it just as hot as Tokyo had been in August… Well, in some ways, the Augur appreciated it. He was a Nagasaki native, after all, and nothing felt more natural than going for a swim as the torrid orange sun ducked beneath the horizon. He smiled at the memories, a bittersweet sense of familiarity creeping into his heart despite the fact that he had never been to this cafe before in his life.

Suddenly, his phone began buzzing, rattling the entire table before the Augur plucked it up. He pushed himself out of his chair and groaned, the long sort that came about whenever someone stretched muscles that had been so relaxed they forgot how to move. "I'll be back in an hour."

Tsuruko gave him a curt nod, not bothering to glance up. "Okay, see ya. Good luck the interview."

The Augur grunted, picking up his briefcase and turning on his heel. "Thanks. I'll need it."

The walk to the psychiatric hospital wasn't too long; crossing the street only took a moment. That was, in fact, the reason they had chosen this cafe, rather than the overpriced coffee, the trendy atmosphere, or myriad of… interesting fashion choices. He was the first to admit that his sense of passion might be subpar, but he had the distinct feeling that any pictures those kids took of them wearing torn jeans and beanies would not age well. Imagine when they look back in three decades. The Augur certainly regretted his choices in dress.

He shook his head, dismissing the thoughts. Potential mistakes about mundane fashion by people he'd never met nor would ever meet were not the most important topic for him to be considering. Other, more consequential topics for consideration included an important witness interview, a series of unsolved murders that have gone completely cold for six months, and the fact that he still had yet to get around to unpacking his new apartment. At least those, he could do something about.

Hopefully.

Pushing open the glass door, the first thing that came to the Augurs attention was how little the place felt like a hospital. While the very front of the small lobby was tiled, the vast majority was carpeted with warm chocolate and orange designs, crashing and flowing like the ocean's waves. The various chairs and sofas scattered around were much nicer than most places he had been, made in an almost European style with lacquer wood and soft cushions. The walls were a soft shade of pinkish-red, like an overripe peach, and the Augur actually quite appreciated the various pictures hung about; they appeared to be reprints of several prominent renaissance era paintings, portraits, still lifes, and the like. He supposed that he wasn't expecting it to be a hospital in 'proper' sense, with the ever-lingering scent of sanitizers and death, but he hadn't been expecting something so… welcoming?

He nodded in approval, and continued to the front desk.

The man behind the desk glanced up, ducking his head in acknowledgement, but continued to type. "Good afternoon. How may I help you?"

"I'm an investigator from the Criminal Affairs Bureau, here for an interview with Dr. Teshima." He didn't bother waiting, pulling the paperwork out of his breast pocket and handing it to the secretary.

Giving it a quick scan, the man pushed up his thick glasses, and typed out a few small things. "You name, sir? There are two here, though neither are 'Augur.'"

The Augur groaned. You think, after being in the force for twenty years, they'd finally stop doing that. He had literally used his alias from day one; it wasn't like he was a very indecisive person. Digging out his I.D., he shoved it into the man's hand. "Shimura Shou. Though 'Augur' is fine."

The man looked over his I.D., and gave a curt nod. "... Ok, everything seems to be in order. Dr. Teshima should be available in a few minutes, so feel free to take a seat while you wait. There's also a complimentary tea, in case you're thirsty." He returned the card to its owner, and gestured towards an electric kettle near the back wall.

"Thank you."

The minutes passed quickly; the tea was surprisingly good, its mint flavor quite refreshing, and he appreciated the time to look over his notes. The Augur didn't have the slightest idea why everything in the building seemed to have been taken directly from one of Queen Victoria's lounges, but after driving all the way to Osaka in a van that seemed to lack even basic suspension, he wasn't going to complain.

Reading through his various case notes, all the small details came back to him. And, alongside that, his stomach continued to sink. He had dug a bit, despite how busy he had been and came to some conclusions that…

That he hoped Dr. Teshima would disprove. His gut twisted in an odd mix of anxiety and anticipation, as though he was a student once again, waiting to begin his written final.

"Ah, Mr. Augur." The Augur's eyes shot up, catching sight of a tall, skeletal man with a graying puffball of hair on his skull and a black suit a few sizes too large. "How are you today?"

"Fine." He snapped the case file shut, and forced down the anxious feeling in his throat. He was an investigator; regardless of how he felt on the matter, he was going to find the necessary information, and use that to conduct his investigation. Now he needed to get that through his dense skull before another murder struck, and he was watching another set of parents cry. "Thank you for allowing me this time. May we proceed to the interview?"

"Of course! Please follow me" The doctor clapped his hands together, beginning down the hallway with a nervous spring in his step, while the investigator trailed behind him, one hand spinning a pen and the other carrying a briefcase. The two soon reached the doctor's office, and the older man gestured towards one of the wooden chairs.

"Please, take a seat! I'm, uh, just as enthusiastic about this as you are!" Dr. Teshima's forced positivity made the Augur want to groan. What was the point of it? Neither of them were convinced by it. Then again… the Augur had no right to complain. He had dealt with far worse interviewees, so at least this one wanted to answer his questions. He settled into his seat, unloading his briefcase of various important note taking devices.

"So, um," The man grinned in a strange, lopsided way that little to hide the anxiousness in his chocolate eyes. "You're here to discuss Ms. Toga?"

"Indeed." The Augur grit his teeth. What was with people and their odd desire for small talk? The Augur just wanted to have his questions answered, and he didn't need to take an investigative methods class to see that the doctor simply wanted this man out of his office as soon as socially acceptable. "However, this shall be a rather short interview. Only a few questions."

Dr. Teshima opened his mouth to continue, but upon seeing the look in the Augur's sandalwood eyes, wisely decided against it. Thank the lord.

The man's office was much like the other rooms outside, with an old wooden desk that looked like it belonged in an old German university, and a bookshelf along the back of the room. A scattering of other, more modern objects threw the entire room off balance, though; a laptop, an electronic picture frame that faded between pictures of the man's family, and a small speaker system playing violin music just loud enough to be noticable. The man himself sat down in a large leather chair across from the Augur, his thin frame far too small for the heavy desk in front of him.

Let's just get this over with. He doubted there would be any new leads or information, but… leave no stone unturned. He set the recorder on the desk, and clicked it on. "This is the Augur, of the Special Investigations Squad. Today is October fifth. Please state your name, age, and occupation for the record."

"Ah, o-of course! I'm Dr. Teshima Rokuro, fifty-nine, and Toga Himiko's psychologist." He smiled in that way that screamed of discomfort, and the Augur scowled. In a way, the psychologist trying so hard to be polite was rude, as though he was sitting across the table from the grim reaper himself.

He tiredly shook his head. Just ignore it. It's the same as it's always been. So just get through with the questions, and maybe he could have a chance to actually find the killer. The investigator scowled, his lips pressed into a thin line as he prayed the answers he got weren't the ones he expected.

"First question: How long have you been Ms. Toga's psychologist?" His voice was cold and dry, and hopefully lacking in any and all emotions.

"Three years, from age twelve to now." The older man's smile wavered, displaying as much confidence as a child with stage fright. "Uh, somewhat. She has since stopped attending regular sessions. However, if she were to be returned to the foster care system, she would once again, uh…" His words petered out, but the Augur got the point. Continuing on…

He glanced down at his notepad, and clicked his pen. "The medical records provided by the foster care service and the government are contradictory; one claims that Ms. Toga has only attended therapy services here, at Hyogo Psychiatric Hospital, while the other claims that she has also attended therapy at a certain 'Kobe Quirk Counseling' facility for three years. What knowledge do you have on this?" He glanced up, careful to watch the man's reaction.

Originally, the Augur had wanted to set up an interview with that facility too, but no matter how deep he dug, he found practically nothing on it; only one or two sparse articles regarding a rather… _controversial_ legal case on it. Not nearly enough to draw any solid conclusions from. But perhaps Dr. Teshima could provide some answers.

And considering how quickly the man's nervous smile dissolved into a grimace, he likely knew quite a bit.

"Far too much, sadly;" He clenched his fist, casting his eyes downwards. "Quite a few of my patients had attended the facility prior to it shutting down."

It made sense, in some ways; the facility was in this very city. But the sudden change his demeanor, how all of his nervousness dissipated into thin air just to be replaced with a dark sense of dread and frustration… The Augur's pen traced slow, tense circles on the yellow legal paper. "And Ms. Toga..?"

Dr. Teshima nodded, his mouth clamped firmly shut as his spindly hands organized the papers on his desk, desperate for a distraction. "Yes, she was one of them. Unfortunately. It likely set back her progress towards a normal life back by years, if she can even obtain it at all."

His pen slowed to a stop, already having worn noticeable grooves in the paper. Of all the things he had been hoping to hear, that was not one of them. If her psychological health was in that poor of a state… he didn't want to think about the implications.

But as a professional, his job was clear-cut: the truth took precedence over any feelings he may have. Even if those feelings were an overbearing sense of dread that lit his nerves on fire and anxiety so dry his mouth became a desert.

"Why do you say that?"

The doctor was quiet, his eyes wandering as he mulled something over. Finally, after a few moments of deafening silence, where the only sounds were those of soft violin music and a pen being clicked open and closed, the man spoke. "Mr. Augur, are you aware of what a 'quirk clinic' is?"

His stomach dropped like a porcelain plate, shattering against the ground.

"... I am, yes. However," The investigator rushed to gather his thoughts, haphazardly shoving his thoughts in order as the pour out of both his mouth and pen. "That form of therapy has been banned for years, has it not?"

"Technically, yes." Shaking his head, the doctor sighed, a hollow and drawn out sound. "... If you could even call it therapy. But just because there's a law in place doesn't mean it's enforced."

It was an open secret that quirk clinics operated for years after being banned, but… well, apparently he had been stupid to assume they fell out of use eventually. It had been so long, after all, and society had changed. Quirks weren't seen as a disease anymore, not as something that needed 'curing.' So it was hard to imagine that there would be enough people who thought that way to even support the practices of a quirk clinic. But for one having operated until so recently… The Augur shuddered. If it was anything like the quirk clinics of that he had read about when in college, there was little wonder as to why the girl had mental issues.

"... Do you know what sort of treatment she underwent?"

His voice, while still calm and composed, had a thin lining of concern and… and fear. This wasn't pertinent to his investigation. He wasn't going to pretend it was. And there was little doubt in his mind that using his power as an investigator to find out would be overstepping his bounds, but… something about the tightness in his chest forced him to ignore the logical, well-train part of his mind.

The psychologist briefly stopped shuffling his papers, only to give the interviewer an odd, distrustful look. He scowled, his eyebrows furrowed. "Yes, though I do not believe it is relevant enough to your case to overrule patient confidentiality. I, uh… I apologize."

"No, I understand." The Augur spoke too quickly for it to be natural, stringing the words together. Of course he couldn't tell him that. Why had he even asked? To satisfy some sad, useless craving? Focus! This is an investigation, not a novel! He'd been doing this for three decades! Get back to the questions! He steeled his eyes, honing his mind's eye. "May I at least ask if the experience has had any long-term impact on her behavior? Specifically, in a way that may prevent her from living in society?"

"That… That is hard to determine." Chewing on his lip, the doctor set his papers aside, instead beginning to sort his desk ornaments as he puzzled together his answers. As he spoke, his words became smoother and more relaxed, a plow slipping into the grooves of a well-tilled field. "Some behaviors are easier than others to link to the therapy; distrust of doctors, nightmares, things of that sort. For the first few months, the patient practically refused to speak to me, no doubt because of her experiences within the KQC, and she avidly refused to ingest any of the medicine I prescribed her for similar reasons. But other behaviors are more difficult to determine, particularly due to her troubled childhood. Likely, though, any behavioral issues she has that would cause issues reintegrating into society were only exacerbated by the 'therapy,' and caused by her home situation."

The Augur quirked an eyebrow. "Her home situation?"

Scowling, the doctor nodded." Yes. But once again, I apologize; patient confidentiality."

Jotting down a few notes, the investigator couldn't help but grit his teeth. This was an investigation, but it didn't feel like one. He was supposed to be tracking the location of the suspect, preventing them from killing any more innocent people. But not only had he not even found the slightest hint as to where to find them, but so far… his suspect didn't seem like a villain. He had been searching for a criminal, but all he had found was a victim. He had been looking for a motive, but all he had found was a closet full of skeletons. And yet, he still had to hunt her down, put her on trial, and throw her in a jail, ruining her already awful life. Maybe this was what he signed up for, becoming an investigator, but it still felt awful. And…

And he didn't want to think she did it. He didn't want to think that this girl, who obviously had so much go wrong, had nothing to look forward to in life except a cell. The Augur wanted to find her, but just so that she could get the help she so desperately needed. He would sell his soul to actually save someone for once.

But to do that, he first needed to know she was innocent. And this was perhaps one of the largest tests for that.

"I suppose," He began, choosing his words carefully. "... I should reveal to you the purpose of this interview; I am currently investigating Ms. Toga's whereabouts due to her potential involvement in a string of serial murders. These murders involved victims, all of whom were between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five, being tortured with a knife, prior to having their carotid vein cut, and having their blood consumed." He ignored the ice in his veins, and forced out the question. "As her psychologist, do you believe that Toga Himiko is capable of committing these murders?"

The man's shock was palpable, the air thick as molasses. He opened his mouth to answer, before scowling and considering a moment longer. Finally, the doctor looked up, his eyes dark and heavy. "... Yes, I do. I wish I could say otherwise, but, speaking as a professional… I would be surprised, but not doubtful if such were the case."

There was his answer.

He said it so simply. So plainly.

And it was exactly the thing the Augur didn't want to hear..

He felt the very sudden urge to swear loudly, and tear up his notepad. But instead, he simply nodded, not a single emotion crossing his face.

"Please provide your reasoning."

The doctor leaned back, grimacing as he recalled the specific details. "One of Ms. Toga's most serious issues was her sadistic behaviour; while she's far from a malicious girl, the fact of the matter is she does not seem to understand the issues with hurting other living things. After finally opening up to me in our sessions, she explained that she perceived sharing pain as an intimate experience, which did little to assuage my concerns. And after she attacked a girl in foster care…" The man reached up, hiding his eyes behind an unnaturally still hand. "I would say yes, she has the capacity for that sort of violence."

The Augur wished he hadn't come. The investigator knew he had to; every lead must be investigated, and every piece of evidence was a puzzle piece that must be carefully recorded and studied. The Augur understood that fact.

But Shimura Shou?

Shou didn't want to know it.

"Well, thank you for your cooperation, Dr. Teshima." He ignored how tight and sore his throat was, instead choosing to stare at the black ink on his notepad. "Do you have any final comments that you would like on the record?"

Dr. Teshima thought for a moment, but shook his head. "... No, not on the record, at least."

Well, that was that. And, in some ways, Shou was thankful. The Augur was disappointed with how little information applied to the case, but Shou was unsure he could hear anymore. He clicked off the recorder, and stood up, beginning to pack his briefcase.

The doctor cleared his throat, and Shou glanced up. "Do you have a family, Mr. Augur? Any children?"

Shou practically dropped his briefcase. Family? Where on earth did this come from? And… and did he even have the right to answer? "... Y-yes. a daughter."

"Have you ever failed them?" Dr. Teshima spoke slowly, his soft voice filled with remorse and regret.

Shou's eyes wandered, refusing to look at the doctor as he fought the flood of bitter words pooling on his tongue.

Had he failed her? What a stupid question.

Of course he failed her.

He had failed her more times than he'd ever want to admit.

He failed her every day.

But the man settled for a simple nod.

"Then maybe you'll understand." Dr. Teshima grunted, pushing himself up from his chair and setting an old, withered hand on Shou's shoulder. "To me, each of my patients is like a new son or daughter to take care of. Each of them unique, with their own strengths and weaknesses, dreams and regrets. And, as a psychologist, my goal is ultimately to be a guiding figure, to help them overcome that which holds them back from achieving those dreams."

Shou held back a laugh, the cold, dry kind that was more sad than anything. "It must be nice."

"... In some ways." The doctor rolled his head from side to side, as though weighing the pros and cons. "I liked Toga; I loved how cheerful she was, and how she was seemingly boundlessly enthusiastic. She reminds me a lot of my son, when he was younger. But, when I was told what she did, how she attacked her friend… I knew I had failed her. I had failed to help her when she needed it. So, I can only wish you the best in your investigation. Because, she needs help, and before anyone can do that, you need to find her."

In that moment, it wasn't Dr. Teshima and the Augur. It wasn't a psychologist and an investigator. It wasn't two professionals, seeking the find a solution.

No, in that moment, it was just two old men, past their prime and filled with regrets. Two old men, hoping the other might succeed where they failed.

The Augur shook his head, a dejected sigh slipping from his lips, but he didn't move to shrug the doctor away. "You put too much faith in me. I'm going to fail her too, even if I do find her."

The doctor raised his eyebrows, but scowled disbelievingly. "Now why do you say that?"

"I'm an investigator." His brown eyes, tired and torn, weren't quite able to hide the riptide of emotions clawing at his heart. "If I succeed, the only place she'll end up is in a prison. I can't help her, not in the way she needs."

Patting him on the shoulder, Teshima gave the investigator a small smile. "I would politely disagree, if you don't mind. Even if it isn't your job to help her, it doesn't mean you can't. After all, a little bit of compassion can go a long way, no matter the situation."

Compassion, huh?

Shou had never been too good at that, really. But...

"... I'll keep that in mind."

)ooOoo(

Izuku hissed, sucking in a sharp breath as he rubbed the burn on his cheek. Compared to some of the ones he'd had before, it wasn't that bad, but still…

… Maybe he should've gone to the nurse after the principal dismissed him.

Izuku probably got on her nerves, but… well, he might as well just make visiting her part of his daily schedule. There was always something to be patched up, after all. Katsuki was nothing if not diligent, at least in this regard. The boy sighed, his soft green eyes firmly locked on his toes as he passed through the school gate. It might be a beautiful day, the sun bright as summer and the air cool as fall, but Izuku could only watch the cement as he wandered down the sidewalk, trapped inside the recesses of his own mind.

Everything was sore, but not for any reasons he could solve. Some parts of him were sore from his morning jog; he had upped his distance again, and today was the first day of that cycle. Nothing he could do other than piledrive through it, really, and hope that practice today was easier than normal. But, while that explained the stiffness in his glutes, the burns on his face and soreness in his jaw came from... quite a different place.

Izuku knew he shouldn't get in fights. His gut was heavy, weighed down by guilt, and his mouth tasted bitter and bone-dry, as though he were swallowing a spoonful of salt. It wasn't the right thing to do, not at all. Nothing more than unnecessary violence. Toga said heroes have to fight, but… but that's only when there were no other options. It was the last resort, not the primary goal. They were protectors of the peace, and you can't protect the peace if you're busy beating up everyone you disagree with. Heroes were there to help people, first and foremost.

… Well, in theory, at least. Definitely not in practice. But a 'protector of peace' was what Izuku wanted to become, so that was the definition he was going to use.

But what other options did he have? He clutched his notebook to his chest, defiance and anger burning behind his evergreen glare. It wasn't like he was the ones starting the fights! If Katsuki just kept his distance, then there'd be no problems! But no, the fiery blond just _had _to start something wherever he got the chance. He never missed an opportunity to make himself feel superior, but the only way he knew how was by tearing others down. That was probably the exact reason he wanted to be a hero, really! Just to make himself above the law, and above criticism. How _heroic _of him. The boy clenched his jaw, forcing down a groan.

And what did the principal do? Or the teachers? Nothing! Nothing at all! But for some reason, whenever Katsuki threw a punch, it was Izuku's fault, and _he _got the pleasure of sitting through another one of the principal's 'disappointed teacher' lectures. So what was he supposed to do? Just lay down and take it? Let the blond do whatever he wanted, just because he was the principal's favorite racehorse? He had done that! For fourteen years! And it changed nothing! It just made him so angry, he wanted to-!

A scream caught in his throat, followed by a long, shaky sigh that carried with it all of his tension. Getting angry wasn't going to solve anything. No, it would just cause more issues. He was weak, and even if he was the most furious kid on earth, he was still weak. The only thing he could was train, so that one day, he could change things. First he'd need to get into U.A., and to do that, he needed to effectively apply the strengths he did have. Shaking his head, he rubbed his chin between two fingers and continued his steady, if slow, walk to the garage.

That was a quandry, really. The big one, and the one he had yet to solve. How was he going to get into U.A.? He had improved a lot, but it would never be enough, not if he didn't have a strategy going into the test. And he couldn't build a proper strategy without information. But where could he information?

He turned into a back alley, the narrow one he passed through practically every day. Trash littered the stained concrete, and graffiti marred the walls. Just a few months ago, this place had terrified him, and being pinned to the ground here by Toga hadn't helped. But now, he had grown used to the place, the inky shadows and rancid smell. Maybe even comfortable.

What about Reddit? There had to be at least a few people who had taken the test, and decided to write about it. He mostly stuck on hero-monitoring forums, but maybe he could find one or two subreddits dedicated to hero test prep? It was worth a shot. He already knew of a few for hero training, and that had come in handy over the past few months, especially for designing his workouts. Of course, he'd have to talk with Toga about it too; she was potentially his greatest resource. He couldn't have gotten this far without her, and not just because of her physical training. He owed Toga a lot.

But suddenly, he froze, his eyes going wide.

Toga.

Her training.

_Her mental training._

How had he not even realized it?

Slowly, he lowered his hand, slipping it into his pocket-

And spun around, steel ringing against steel. He grabbed the person's wrist, attempting to twisted it behind their back, but a sharp kick to his legs dropped him to the ground.

How had he been so stupid? This was exactly what Toga had been trying to prepare him for! _Idiot!_

Izuku rolled out of the way, only a fraction of a moment before a knife struck the where his head had been. Balancing on one hand, he delivered a sweeping kick, but the attacker dodged, simply jumping over it as Izuku used his momentum to throw himself to his feet. Slipping another knife out of his pocket, he spun them in his hands, catching them where the blades faced outwards.

Wide stance.

Shoulders narrow.

Fist on guard.

And his opponent in front of him, balancing on one heel as she spun her blade between her fingers. A set of toxic yellow eyes, and a thin, mischievous smile.

"Aw, I thought I'd get you! You didn't look prepared at all!" Toga giggled, clicking her knife closed and folding her hands behind her back.

"Not this time." A smile spread across Izuku's face, but it wasn't the warm, soft sort. No, it was the sort that was carved in steel. A runner at attention, ready for the gun to go off. "I'm gonna win today."

Toga grin only widened, peppy and enthusiastic as she gave him two big, dramatic thumbs up. "I believe in you! Good luck!"

Izuku would've responded with a thumbs up of his own, but he didn't dare drop his guard. Her words may make his chest swell with warmth, but he had long since learned to not assume that meant the fight was on hold. Last time he did that, he had a hard time explaining to Mom why his school uniform was practically slashed in two.

The two stared at each other, still as stone. A car rumbled past, but silence prevailed. Izuku had a time limit, and he knew it. Toga was playing with him, watching the mouse squirm before the hunt began. And unless the mouse found a strategy, it was nothing more than a meal living on borrowed time.

Her stance was unsteady, but if he moved to attack, she'd certainly maneuver. How? Jumping, almost definitely. Unless he managed to grapple her, that would almost certainly end in another round of exchanging blows, until one fled or won. And considering both his fight and jog from earlier, he wasn't in any position to grapple nor box; his limbs were already exhausted, not to mention far slower than Toga's. He squeezed his knives, his knuckles turning white. That left only two possible strategies.

So he spun on his heel and ran.

Which strategy? One or two? Uh… Uh..! He glanced back, just to see Toga sprinting after him, a lynx's smile stretched across her face. His green eyes widened in panic.

Strategy one! Definitely strategy one! There was _no way_ he was gonna try and trip her up!

Skidding on one of his heels, Izuku rounded a corner into an even narrower back alley. Another turn, left, right, another left... Was this the way? Or was it the next alley? Oh, please be this one! He twisted around pipes and jumped garbage cans, not daring to slow down. And then, his heart dropped.

There was a fence.

There was a fence at the end of the alley.

_And Toga behind him._

Izuku bit his lips, tasting blood, but only sped up. No way through it. No way under it. No way around it. So he could only go-!

He kicked against one of the alley's narrow walls, catching the top of the chain link fence and pushing himself over it.

He landed with a _thud_, rolling forward a few paces before he pushed himself up and kept running. That wasn't according to plan, but he got where he had meant to go: a junkyard.

He dashed through the piles of scrap metal, running along narrow paths and slipping through crevices of rusted car frames. Toga was just moments behind him; he didn't need to look back to know. She might not be as good as him at mounting high obstacles, but that was less of her being slow and more of him just being fast. And that meant he only had mere moments before she found him again. His eyes shot back and forth as he ran, searching desperately.

Too small. Too obvious. Too far from the path.

_There!_

Without a moment of hesitation, he lept into a rusted-out car frame, half buried in trash and long since abandoned by any hope of repair. He grabbed the front seat, throwing himself over it and hiding just out of sight.

And now, he waited.

It was dark inside the car; squeezed behind the seat, Izuku couldn't help but feel he was being crushed by the shadows. But he ignored it, focused entirely on his goal. His breaths were slow and shaky, the sudden stillness in stark contrast to his throbbing heart.

Calm… calm… calm…

The air stunk of oil and mold, and the rusted metal was ice cold in the shadows. He forced his breathing to slow, but his eyes stayed snapped open, panicked and bloodshot. He had to be quiet! If she heard him, then the plan would be ruined!

"Izuuuuuu-kun!" The silence was struck down by a sing-songy voice, a smile in the girl's voice, and Izuku's heart lurched. "Where are yoooooou?"

His entire body quivered, adrenaline coursing through his veins, but he forced himself to move slowly as he peaked out of the car's rusted husk. And there, only a few paces away, was Toga, searching a broken down car across the path.

His chance.

Slowly, _slowly, _he pushed himself up. One step out of the car, and then another. Balancing on the balls of his feet, he cradled his closed knives in his palms. Blood roared in his ears, drowning out everything but the pounding in his chest. A fire seared the insides of his lungs, screaming for air, but he didn't dare breath.

They were mere centimeters away.

He could hear her soft breaths.

See the individual strands of her hair.

And all he had to do was strike blood.

All he had to do was aim for the neck.

He licked his lips, his hands trembling in excitement, and flicked open his blades.

Toga froze, a cannibalistic smile stretching across her face as she slowly turned around. "Fooound you!"

For a brief moment, the world was completely still, as though frozen in ice. Putrid yellow met rotten green, both filled with an insatiable hunger. A small smile flickered across Izuku's face, not so unlike Toga's.

And then, time exploded back into existence.

His blade went straight for her neck, but it only met steel, and Toga's foot slammed into Izuku's gut. He choked, coughing as he stumbled backwards, and the girl leaped at him, savage joy in her eyes.

Before she could reach him, Izuku rammed into her, headbutting her stomach and sending her flying towards the junk pile. He shook his head, loosening his shoulders, but any opportunities he had melted into thin air, the girl landing on her feet.

He had let his… his _excitement _get the better of him, and didn't strike when he had the chance! Stupid! He grit his teeth, and ducked to the side, barely dodged the girl's blade as it sliced through where his head had been not even seconds before. Now, he was stuck in a hand-to-hand situation that he was bound to lose in! Strategy one failed, all because of his hesitation! She stabbed at him again, but he caught her wrist, and sliced at her forearm with his other blade. Twisting her arm, she just barely escaped his grasp unscathed, and then threw herself into a counterattack.

She was wearing him down, he knew it. He was keeping up with her, but just barely. His muscles burned, as though sulfuric acid was pumping through his veins, and his limbs became heavier and heavier as the two fought. He had to disengage, or end this quickly, because, if he didn't…

He tossed the thought out of his head. He refused to lose.

A kick to his side sent Izuku to the dusty ground, and he let out a shout. The blonde flew through the air, her feline eyes shining with glee and her knife glinting in the afternoon sunlight like a large, silver claw.

He refused to _consider _losing.

Snatching up a fist-full of the grainy dirt, he threw it in her face, scrambling to his feet. She stumbled backwards, trying to rub the dirt out of her eyes, but Izuku refused to hesitate once more. The predator became the prey, and Izuku stuck out, bearing his teeth. He aimed to win.

He aimed for the neck.

But Toga sidestepped, avoiding his knife completely. Izuku's legs were kicked out from under him, and he tumbled to the ground, the girl straddling his chest. He lashed out with his knives, and-

Froze, feeling the icy edge of a blade against his jugular. It was balanced just so, light enough to not cut him is he stayed still, but firm enough to slice him open if he made even the faintest move.

"So!" Toga cracked a wide smile, cocking her head. "Do I win?"

Izuku scowled, but remained silent. Did she win yet? Logically speaking… yes. He was in a position where, at her whim, he could be dead. She could… she could slice open his neck with casual ease…

_A single vein split open. His limbs too weak too move, and his sight filling with inky black. A pool of sticky blood spreading from his body as he gasped desperately for air. And, above it all, a girl with messy blond hair, eyes sparkling with twisted joy and his lips coated in dark blood._

Izuku's heart had already been beating fast, working as hard as it could to keep up with the boy's oxygen-deprived muscles, but now it was working even faster, as though specifically to make his chest pop.

"I, uh-" Izuku's face flushed red, his eyes darting away from Toga's face. Don't think about it. Not now, not here, _not while she's literally on top of him. _Was he really that much of a… well, maybe pervert wasn't the right word for this, but it felt about the same! "I y-yield!"

"Yay!" Toga threw her hands in the air, smiling with almost childish glee as she jumped to her feet. She grabbed him by the wrist, dragging him to his feet so quickly he almost lost his balance, before playfully wrapping her arms around his neck and hanging off him. And, despite his hot, uncomfortable blush and the fire in his muscles… Izuku couldn't help but smile warmly back. Toga's energy was infectious, even on the worst of days.

"You did really well this time, Izu-kun!" She let go of him, stumbling back a pace and balancing on one foot. "That part with the dirt was really clever! It really hurt!"

Izuku's smile fell like a stone. "I-I'm sorry! Are you okay?" his hands shook in front of him, paralyzed by both the need to grab her and look her over for injuries, and the fear of crossing one boundary too many. He had thrown dirt in her eyes! Dirt that probably had flecks of metal, plastic and glass in it, right into her eyes, one of the most sensitive parts of the body! He had just been in the heat of the moment, and-!

"You're so cute when you're worried!" Toga giggled, interrupting his thought process with a pat on his head. "But I'm doing great! You're so much fun to fight against, even if you've had a bad day!"

A bad day? Well, yeah, maybe he had a bad day, but if he hurt her, that was far more impor-

_How did she know he had a bad day?_

His hands froze, his mind flooding with panic. Had she been following him all day? L-like a stalker? She honestly seemed like she could, and he still didn't even know what her quirk was! Had she seen his fights with Katsuki in the courtyard? _Did she hear what they had said? _Just the thought of Toga knowing what they had fought over made Izuku's face bloom red.

But instead of the dozens of chaotic questions from of his mouth, only a few space words squeezed out. "... What do you mean?"

"Do you think you can hide it from me, Izu-kun?" Toga carelessly twirled around him, her fingers weaved together behind her back and her sharp eyes never straying from Izuku's thin frame. "You looked so cloudy earlier, and not to mention you're covered in cute little burns, like pink polka-dots! You're such an unfaithful boyfriend!"

"Boyfr-?" Izuku stood starid as a board, the cold composure previously brought on by confusion and stress disintegrating into a mess of muttering. "What? N-no, I- uh- I can't possibly be- That's-" Boyfriend? It wasn't that he didn't like her, b-but-

It just wasn't true. And her teasing only made his heart ache more. Besides, there wasn't a single doubt in his mind that she could find someone better than him. Someone who wasn't a scrawny deku, or chased after impossible dreams, or hurt her by accident. Not to mention, whenever Katsuki got involved… Izuku clenched his fists, trying to force down the tears burning his eyes.

Toga's mischievous smile, oh-so pleased with his embarrassed mumbling, fell apart. "Izu-kun, what's wrong?"

"It's…" A lot of things. A lot of things were wrong. There were only four months left, and he still couldn't even go toe-to-toe with a girl who wasn't even using a quirk. Katsuki beat him up every other day, no matter how much he fought back. The school always pinned it on him. He had wet dreams about drinking his friend's blood. And so many other, smaller things. But… but he didn't have the right to put those issues on her. These were his battles, and to force those issues on the girl who was already giving so much to help him..? He scowled, his eyes refusing to look anywhere other than the safety of the ground. "… Well, it's nothing that I should trouble you with."

There were a few moments of silence, and as she slowed to a stop, he could practically feel Toga's disappointment. It radiated off of her in thick waves, cold and heavy compared to her normal bouts of hot and fast energy. He knew he was hiding it from her, and it made his stomach twist into nasty knots. But if he were to tell her, saddle her with his problems, it would only make him feel worse.

"... You not telling me troubles me." She spoke quietly, but not softly, as though she were pressing the flat of her knife against his cheek. Not sharp, but most certainly not warm.

"I-I'm sorry." Why was he apologizing? It wasn't like that would solve anything. But there wasn't anything he could say. He bit his lip, purposefully avoiding Toga's soul-seeing gaze. The silence of the junkyard boxed him in like a steel cage, while the orange sun began its descent, casting long shadows.

He hesitantly cast a glance toward the girl, only to find her carefully studying him. There was hurt in her eyes, but it was small, pushed to the side by… something colder? Izuku couldn't quite describe it, other than how it made him shiver. It was something that was always there, hiding in the nooks and crannies of her eyes, but he always chose to ignore it. Because… because it always reminded Izuku that Toga was, fundamentally, not normal. She did things that were, in some ways, more animal than human. How her eyes always followed him, as though tracking a target. How her smiles always contained a drop of sadistic desire alongside their lighthearted jubilation. How she seemed to move far more fluidly than any person should, and how her entire posture could change at the drop of a pen.

But now, there were no other emotions watering down the sensation in her eyes, and Izuku was forced to look at the demons in her soul.

"Why do you want to be a hero, Izuku?"

Izuku choked down a yelp, her simple words snapping him out of a petrified trance. Why? Well, because he wanted to-

"T-to help people!" The words tumbled out of his mouth, his mind still scrambling. How did this relate to anything? And besides, she already knew, didn't she? They had their promise!

"Then make sure not to forget one thing, ok?" She took a small step towards him, her eyes filling with much more human warmth as she wrapped her arms around him.

"W-... What?" Izuku trembled under her touch, his arms held out, as far away from her body as he could. Why was she hugging him? Was he supposed to hug back? And why couldn't he think of anything more intelligent to say than stuttered one word answers?

She cupped his cheek, long dagger-like nails resting against his skin as she forced him to look at her. Toga wasn't smiling. "Just because you're going to help others, doesn't mean others can't help you."

The wind, in that moment, actually changed directions, delivering a distinct chill.

She wanted to know.

She wanted to help.

But…

Did he deserve it?

**A/N: G'evening, all, this is Imp! Hope you're liking the chapter, it was actually pretty hard to write. I can't say I'm the best at fight scenes, and I actually had to rewrite the interview between the Augur and Dr. Teshima twice. In brief, a lot of deleting and notetaking. But hopefully it came out well! **

**With only the worst of intentions,**

**Imp the Nefarious**

**AO3:**

**Atryx10: A comrade! Those are some awesome beats! I've heard guitarmass by infected mushroom, but I no idea they did covers; the pretender is already one of my favorite songs, so to find this cover is really cool. I do hope to do Toga's character justice in this, because she is undeniably both incredibly fit, and incredibly strong. She seems to almost intentionally hide her very innate sense of cunning and intelligence throughout canon, which always lead me to wonder why. She's obviously very talented in a variety of ways; now, what would lead her to try and disguise that? Of course, if you have any recommendations, please do share! I can only get better.**

**DragonstoneH: No problem! There always seems to be quite the shortage of fics for this rarepair, at least, beyond smut and dekubowl fics. So, I thought, maybe there'd be someone on that server who'd enjoy! **

**(Quick question to you AO3 users: should I just respond to you in the threads instead of in the author's note? I am not at all used to the AO3 system, so what's more common practice?)**

**FFN:**

**PandaTone: Who doesn't like a bit of crazy? Sane people are boring, after all. "You think your girlfriend's crazy? Does she murder people and drink their blood? No? Then you don't know nothin'!" But no, don't worry! I was just travelling last week, and wasn't able to write for four days. It drove me completely nuts, so getting out that chapter was more of a relief than anything.**

**Tealgryffin: Thanks! I know a lot of people are kinda so-so on the Augur, but I've actually come to really enjoy writing his scenes. The Augur, in my opinion, is a a man, broken by his regrets but held together by the stresses of society and responsibility, which, honestly… well, simply put, I relate to him a lot more than the other characters so far. Maybe he's not as dramatic or entertaining as some of the other characters throughout this will be, but I feel that's simply because he is facing significantly different issues as a person. Regardless, I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter, and I hope this one continued to build on it!**

** : I wholeheartedly agree! One thing that often irks me about some fics, and this isn't limited to any fandom or troupe, is when they completely changes the main character's core motivation, or, at least, without proper justification. Sometimes, it can work, but sometimes, it just doesn't. Let's say you shove Izuku into a situation from a young age that drastically changes his views on heroes, then that makes since, but to assume just because of his encounter with All Might he'd become an insane villain..? More than likely, he'd just become more depressed than before, and continue to develop his inferiority complex until it reached a point that he'd just kill himself, or just let himself rot away. Well, unless he ran into a certain blonde who's sense of morality is a tad bit less… **_**constricted.**_** The ship of theseus has to be changed one plank at a time, after all.**


	12. Chapter 12

"_Get off of me! Get away! What are yo-" Her voice was cut off by a deafening scream, one that made Himiko's heart flutter and nerves tingle. Aimi choked out a cry, her body racked with sobs as Himiko dug her blade deeper into the girl's flesh, biting back her own heartbroken mews._

"_Doesn't it feel good?" Himiko lapped up her friend's blood, talking into the nape of Aimi's neck as she licked and kissed away the sticky red syrup. Teeth brushed against skin, and pleasure, hot and wet, pumped through Himiko's veins. "I just wanted to-!"_

_Himiko's voice cracked, pain and desperation clawing its way out of her broken facade like a porcelain doll's shattered face._

"_-I just wanted to show you how much I love you!" She bit down, and Aimi screamed again, a high and shrill sound that was music to Himiko's ears. Her nails dug into Aimi's neck, keeping her in place even as she thrashed back and forth. Fat tears burned Himiko's cheeks, but the smile wouldn't leave her face._

_She had to smile._

_If she stopped smiling, she'd break._

_Break more than before._

_So just keep the smile up, so that maybe Aimi would understand, just a little bit._

"_P-..." For a moment, Aimi's wild jerking stopped, replaced only by small, pitiful sobs. "... Please stop…"_

_Aimi's begging tore at Himiko's raw heart. Why didn't Aimi understand? Himiko had tried to explain. She had tried to let her know. But Aimi had said no anyway, had called her a freak, a monster. She gingerly held up the blood-stained knife, right above Aimi's panicked brown eyes, before slicing open her own cheek._

"_It's ok, it's ok…" Himiko cooed, running her fingers through Aimi's dyed hair and catching her own blood on the knife. "Just say 'ah!'" _

"_W-what?" Aimi tried to shrink away from the blonde, but it was a pointless struggle._

"_Open up!" A drop of blood, still warm, slipped off of the knife's blade and splattered against Aimi's cheek. Whose blood? Himiko wasn't sure. The knife was coated with both of theirs, mixing together into a sickly-sweet symbol of Himiko's love. The girl clamped her jaw shut, refusing to cooperate, but Himiko forced her mouth open. "Here ya go!"_

_She rubbed the flat of the blade against Aimi's tongue, smearing the inside of her mouth with blood, before licking the blade's other side clean herself. The taste of iron, of life, of love. Himiko shivered with pleasure, and it felt like her body was melting. In some ways, it was, as her own physical features melted away and were replaced by those of the girl underneath her. _

_She was becoming Aimi._

_They were becoming one. _

"_This is our knife, you know?" Himiko giggled, a warm and happy sound one might hear in their nightmares. "It's the one you got me this year! And that makes it special!"_

_Aimi only whimpered in response. Why wasn't she saying anything? Why didn't she bite back, or hug her, or anything?_

_Why was she still treating Himiko like a freak?_

_Himiko's lips quivered, trying their hardest to stay twisted into a smile, but…_

_But it hurt._

_Why?_

_What was she doing wrong?_

_She didn't understand!_

"_I'm…" Her voice caught in her throat, her stomach tying itself into a thick knot of flesh and fear. "... I'm not dangerous, right?"_

_The door to their room was thrown open, and Himiko's head whipped around._

_It was just Mrs. Igarashi. Himiko tried to smile a bit more welcomingly, but she couldn't quite wipe away the tears in her eyes, or the lovesick blush on her face. "H-hi, Mrs. Igara-"_

_The caretaker screamed._

"_Toga, get off of her!" The knife clattered to the ground as the woman grabbed Himiko's arm, dragging her off the girl. "What on earth are you doing?"_

"_Huh?" Himiko's mouth was dry as a desert. How… how was she supposed to explain? What was she supposed to say? Mrs. Igarashi didn't like Himiko's love. She had sent her to see Dr. Teshima. She couldn't understand. Swallowing her fear, she took a small step forward. "Well, uh-" _

"_Stop!" Mrs. Igarashi stuck out her hand, and Himiko froze. "Stay over there!"_

_Panic. She could see the panic in Mrs. Igarashi's eyes. Hear the fear in her voice. See the wild, animalistic terror that made the woman stay as far away from Himiko as possible, cradling Aimi in her arms as though she had just been mauled by a rabid bobcat. A bobcat that was standing only a few paces away, a gray slime dripping off of her as her face returned to its original features._

_Sharp, skin-splitting teeth._

_Pale, bloodstained skin._

_Rotten yellow eyes._

"_Oh my god… Oh my god, oh my god…" The woman said it over and over, her shaky hands traveling over Aimi as she looked over the bloodied girl. Mrs. Igarashi licked her lips, and spoke softly, in the tense, far-too-calm way that made Himiko flinch. _

"_Toga?"_

"_Y-yes?"_

"_Why did you do this?"_

"_... I-" The words refused to leave Himiko's throat, and her eyes stung, looking everywhere but the older woman. She knew it was wrong. Everyone told her it was wrong. _

_Her friends did. _

_Aimi did. _

_Dr. Teshima did._

_But…_

_But despite that…_

"_... I just wanted her to understand."_

"_You could've killed her!" Mrs. Igarashi snapped, fear becoming blind rage. "Did you even consider that? Did you even think about what you were doing?"_

_Himiko's breaths were shallow and fast, her burning lungs unable to keep pace with her throbbing heart. "Well, I-"_

"_Look at her, Toga! Look at what you did!"_

"_I'm-... I'm sorry!" This wasn't what she was supposed to be feeling. This wasn't what she wanted. She just wanted to be with Aimi. She wanted to feel warm and safe, to hold Aimi close and not feel like she had to hide everything._

_She just wanted to feel normal._

"_Do you think 'sorry' is going to cut it?" Mrs. Igarashi, usually so soft-spoken and kind, shouted at her with some grief-stricken mix of terror and desperation. "What do you think the police will say? They already wanted to take you away! They wanted to put you in a ward last time!"_

"_W-what?" A ward? Like the ones that Aunt Iku wanted to put her in? Like the ones where… where they tried to 'cure' her? _

"_When I found you drinking your own blood, the authorities wanted to put you in a ward! They thought that you were a danger to the other children! And so-" Mrs. Igarashi grit her teeth. "I begged them! I begged them to let you stay! I promised to put you in counseling, I promised you weren't a danger to the other kids! I gave all that I could to give you a chance, and you've thrown it all away!" She spat out those last word, filled with a toxic mix of fear, anger, and regret._

_The air was filled with nauseous silence, thick and heavy._

"_I…" Mrs. Igarashi didn't look up at Himiko. "I need to call the authorities." _

_No._

_No._

_Nonononononono._

_Not police. Not heroes. Please. Please not them._

_She'd be good. She'd stop. She'd not ever hurt anyone again, and she'd even take the pills Dr. Teshima gave her._

_She wanted to cry out to the woman, to beg, to grovel, to do whatever it took. But nothing would move. All she could do was stand there, her lips frozen, her eyes burning, her insides a twisted mess, as Mrs. Igarashi flipped open her phone._

_And, in that moment, there was one voice of clarity._

_Only a few words. _

_Small and brief, from so many years ago._

"_I love you, Himiko. I love you so much, it hurts. I've made mistakes. I've hurt people. And sometimes, the only way to solve that… is to get as far away from those people as possible."_

_It hurt._

_Mama said it had hurt._

_But Himiko knew what she had to do._

_She ran._

)ooOoo(

The sun was a bleeding heart. Nestled between two mountains as it set, the red ball's lazy rays painted Musutafu's city skyline with crimson light and blue shadows, long and dark. It was as though the city had sunk into a sea of blood, a twisted form of Atlantis far too hellish for even the gods to create. But unlike Atlantis, where the townsfolk learned to breath beneath the waves, the people of Musutafa must've drowned once they dipped beneath the surface, choking at the vile liquid and screaming out their last breaths before collapsing to the newfound seabed, leaving this whole new world to a single, toxic creature.

Himiko appreciated the quiet, at least.

… Aimi would've liked to have seen that written down. She had always thought dark and dramatic prose was better. Though she might've liked the reference to Greek mythology, too, considering how much the girl adored the Percy Jackson series. Aimi always tried her hardest to seem like a preppy blonde, but deep down, she was just a cute little nerd.

A small chuckle escaped Himiko, a weak smile playing at her lips. Even when drowning in a swamp of melancholy, the thought of Aimi was a drop of happy sunshine. But…

Himiko's smile faded, like a deflating balloon.

Even if Himiko did write it down... Aimi would never see it. It wasn't like she could see her again.

The girl spent a lot of time alone. That's what monsters did, after all; they were rarely spotted outside of killing people. So, whenever Izu-kun was in school, she had taken to wandering the city, finding all of its little nooks and crannies. Places to hide, places to sleep, places to relax. Back alleys and side streets, hidden gems and secret treasures. This was one of the places she had found, and one of her favorites. A quiet little garden, with a few scattered flower beds and a bench overlooking the city. Far enough away from everything to make the sounds of the city disappear, yet also close enough to let her watch the people scurry around on the ground, just like how ants dashed around when she would kick their nests. It was hard to escape the all-encompassing noise of the city, so any opportunity she got, she'd take it.

Even if it meant breaking an emergency fire exit and climbing fifteen stories to the top of an apartment complex.

She leaned against the guardrail, her chin resting in one palm and her knife twirling in the other as a frown tugged at the edges of her lips. It wasn't an angry frown; she didn't think so, at least. It wasn't a sad one, either; she could only be disappointed so many times before that emotion lost its meaning. If her heart always ached, than how was she supposed to tell if it was aching for a special reason? No, more than anything, it was wistful. Her pale yellow eyes, the color of autumn leaves, were practically empty, only left with a look of deep longing as some of the last beams of red light peeked over the mountains' crests.

Maybe she was asking for too much. At least he talked to her.

But she still wanted _more._

Izu-kun was adorable. Most days, he was a cute little puppy, an amusing ball of nerves and energy that fumbled his words and always took care of others first. Sometimes, on a rare day, he was a wolf, cold and focused and terrifyingly intelligent. She loved both of them so much, and saw so much potential in him. The puppy bandaged her wounds, kind and sympathetic. The wolf made her a promise, absolute and driven.

But a little thing about wolves and dogs: They were both pack animals.

And neither of them could trust a lynx in their pack.

She sighed, running her fingers up and down the flat of her knife. This wasn't the knife Aimi gave her; she kept that in her bag, along with her phone and her copy of 'wolf children.' No, this was the one that she had gotten for Izu-kun. She had been hoping for… Well, a lot, honestly. Silly things. Things that she should've given up on. Izu-kun was a sweet boy, but she doubted he'd ever come to understand her in the way she wanted. He had a crush on her; that was clear as day. But would he still have one if she did to him what she did to Aimi? Or would she just have to run away again, having wasted yet another chance at a normal life?

She watched the people below, sick jealousy niggling at the back of her mind as she watched them walk about their daily lives. Some headed home from work, some spending time with friends, some bound for destinations that Himiko couldn't even guess. She flipped the knife shut, cradling the cool metal in her hand.

She had seen the burns. The bruises. There were new ones every day, and no matter how much he tried to hide them, she could easily see past his distractions. And, had Izu-kun liked them, she wouldn't be worried. But she could tell he didn't.

Himiko just wished he would tell her. Seeing him alone, in pain… it hurt. It hurt because she had felt it too, and she didn't want to see anyone go through it. She was there for him. But what did that even mean, if he didn't trust her enough to even tell her?

There was the clattering of shoes against metal, and Himiko turned around, just in time to see Izu-kun walking up the building's fire escape. Well, not quite 'walking.' A more accurate way to describe it was 'carefully climbing up the fire escape, cling to the guardrail for dear life while trying not to look down.'

Despite the weight in her chest, Himiko could help but giggle at the sight. "Hiya, Izu-kun! Are you gonna actually jump this time? Go nice and splat?" She made a whooshing sound that ended in an abrupt _splat _noise, as if the boy needed a presentation, and Izu-kun stared at her in stark horror.

"N-no!" He spoke far to fast, clamoring off of the fire escape and onto the rooftop with so much panic that Himiko couldn't help but be amused. "Definitely not!"

She laughed, and spun towards him on one heel, still leaning against the guardrail. "Don't worry! I won't push you! Well..." A much more feline grin stretched across her face. "... Not this time, at least."

"Oh, uh, um... Good?" Izu-kun scowled and stumbled over to the girl, his eyes darting back and forth as he recovered from his acute fear of heights. Or, at least, his acute fear of falling from said heights. "And… and should we even joke about that?"

"Well…" Her head lazily rolled to one side, and then the other, a finger on her chin as she considered. But then, an enthusiastic smile split open her face. "We have to laugh. Otherwise, we'd just spend all our time crying!"

"I guess that's true, in some ways. But…" Izu-kun leaned against the guardrail, fanning himself with his sweaty t-shirt as his green eyes wandered, contemplating. His lips moved, tracing the faint outlines of words, and Himiko could only give a lopsided smirk, resting her chin in her hand. Izu-kun and his mumbling. He seemed to speak as soon as the thoughts came to his mind, with absolutely no screen or filter. It was as though, whenever the little puppy looked too deep within his own head, the line between his mind and the outside world faded, leaving his honest thoughts to spill out for anyone willing to listen.

Himiko sighed longingly, watching the boy become trapped inside his mind.

She just wanted to reach out and bite him. Just a nibble, really.

Just enough to draw blood.

"... That's true." Eventually, after minutes of falling down the rabbit hole, Izu-kun nodded to himself, satisfied with his own conclusions. "A really sad idea, but… a correct one." He glanced over to the setting sun, the bloody red light playing in his nervous green eyes, before his gaze shifted over to the blonde beside him. There were a few moments of silence, the two simply taking the time to watch.

One was watching the city, its quickly fading light and rapidly growing shadows.

The other… Well, Himiko could feel him watching, his eyes burning into her as though that alone could communicate to her what he wanted to say.

A brief gust of wind passed between the two, carrying the chill of Musutafa's mid-autumn, and Himiko shivered, blowing warm breath into her cardigan-covered hands.

"It's so pretty…" Himiko's eyes shot over at the sound of Izu-kun's voice, just to find him watching her with an almost… sad look in his eyes.

Himiko ignored it.

"Yep!" She smiled, but it hurt. She was holding her heart in her hands, and instead of looking at it, she chose to crumple it up and shove it in her pocket, so maybe it would just disappear for a bit. "The sunrise is super pretty too!"

"Huh?" The boy practically jumped out of his skin, as though her response had snapped him out of a dream, before looking away. He ducked his head in shame, and his cheeks were noticeably red, even in the sunset's light. "... Y-yeah, the sunset. That's what I meant."

He wanted to ask something. It was obvious. She could see it in his eyes, the soft pain of holding in his words. And as much as she enjoyed being with him... part of her wanted to push him away.

It was stupid.

It was pointless.

But if he refused to open up to her, she didn't want to pretend. She had fooled herself once with Aimi, tricked herself into thinking the girl cared, and she saw how that ended.

So she simply stood there, a fake smile on her face as she carefully avoided looking at him.

"A-anyway!" Izu-kun spoke far too quickly, standing as straight as a board and as tense as an overstrung violin. He bit his lip and leaned against the guardrail, forcing himself to relax. "How'd you get up here, anyways? I, uh… I don't think using those fire escapes is allowed…"

"It's not! But I don't have a key, do I?" That fake cheerfulness. That sweet syrup. It tasted sickly and artificial and rotten. She hated it, she hated it so much. But it still poured out of her. Over her tongue and past her lips.

"... I guess not..." Izu-kun opened his mouth again, but nothing came out, and the conversation died.

The air smelled of salt, just like Kobe had. There were small differences, but… it was fundamentally the same. In some ways it was comforting, a level of familiarity that couldn't be described with words, but in other ways, it was oppressive, a cage she couldn't escape. Because, no matter how far she ran, they were still there. The classmates that rejected her. The families that feared her, the doctors that drugged her. And Mrs. Igarashi, who had believed in her. Mrs. Igarashi, who Himiko had failed.

"So, uh…" Izu-kun finally spoke up, shattering the hollow silence. Not tense. Not relaxed. Just… empty. "Are you ok?"

"Hmmm?" She stretched out the sound, somehow making it sound like she was teasing him without saying a single word. "Now, why would you ask that? Are you worried about me?" She giggled, a bubbly sound that disgusted Himiko on so many levels. She was ignoring herself. She was ignoring the twisted knot that was her heart, hoping to avoid it simply but watching the boy blush and fidget. Make him dance, so that she wouldn't have to pay attention to the sad ballad in her own head.

Izu-kun shrunk away, beginning to mumble some sort of denial, but then…

He caught himself. Nodding to himself, he squeezed his fists, and stood up straight. "... Well, yeah, I am." He spoke with as much strength as he could, and Himiko raised her eyebrows in surprise, rolling her head to face him. There was obvious concern in his voice, not to mention his serious scowl. "For the past few days, you've been running off in the middle of training. It's not like you at all, and… and I want to know why."

'Not like you?' He said that as though he knew her. He doesn't. And she doesn't know him. They'd spent six months together, but that didn't mean they 'knew' each other. And who's fault was that? Himiko pushed her smile even wider, a rubber band ready to snap. She put herself out there for him! She asked if he was ok! She had told him, over and over, that she was there for him, but he never opened up! And _now, _he comes to her, wanting _her _to open up?

Just… Just keep going. Sidestep. Smile and laugh. Pretend like everything's fine, and everything will be.

She reached out, ruffling his hair. "I'm A-okay! You don't need to worry!"

The strength in Izu-kun's eye crumbled. He had just been pushed away, and he knew it. "But…" He clenched his jaw, casting his eyes towards the ground as his voice quivered. "I still do."

Oh, he was still worried? Himiko resisted the urge to laugh as loudly and cruelly as she could. Wasn't that a surprise? Apparently telling someone not to worry didn't make them stop worrying! Who would've known? Maybe he'd understand how she felt from now on! Maybe he'd not just dodge her question every time she worried about him! Maybe he'd-!

The fire in her belly, that had been growing larger and strong behind her tight smile, had a bucket of ice water poured over it.

… Maybe he'd actually tell her what was bothering him.

Her smile cracked, the mask that she had worn for so long falling apart.

What was she doing? Screaming at him in her head, thinking that would make things better? Punishing him for not opening up by holding herself shut like a clam? She was doing exactly what he had been, but…

But out of spite.

What if he had thought the same way? Neither of them allowing themselves to trust the other, out of some meaningless grudge. Both of them, stuck in this cycle of pain and pettiness for as long as they stayed together… Himiko didn't want that. No one wanted that. She looked at him, watching him shrink away out of shame. He looked so small and sad, like a kicked puppy.

That same kicked puppy she had met months ago.

He had grown a lot, but he was still the same little Izu-kun. Skittish, withdrawn, always stuck in his head…

… But also compassionate, and thoughtful. Always putting her before himself, trying to do what he could to help. He wasn't trying to hurt her. He never had been. He probably didn't have a malicious bone in his soft, squishy body.

A bittersweet smile came to her lips, and she ran her hands through his knotted green hair. The color of mold, the same as it had been since they met.

Himiko set her jaw, swallowing her fear and organizing her words. He had made her a promise, a promise to make the world better, but she wanted more than that. She wanted him to trust her.

And the only way to have that was to trust him.

"... Do I scare you?" She spoke softly, almost hesitantly.

"Huh?" Izu-kun's head snapped up, confused. But at the sight of Himiko's sad features, that confusion descended into a panicked dash to make things better. "Well, uh, yeah, but- But just a little! I, uh, I mean… No… N-not really."

Himiko chuckled at his reaction, but the humor was short-lived, a moment of peace in the eye of the storm. She stumbled back, plopping down on the bench behind them, and Izu-kun joined her. "Well, if I do… please don't run, ok?"

"O-ok..?" Izu-kun nodded, a frenzied and jerky motion filled to the brim with concern and interest.

… Where to start? What to start with? What… What to explain? There was so much. Too much. A lot of things that were hard to explain.

… a lot of things she wasn't ready to explain.

She wanted to explain everything, just to get it all off of her chest. But she also wanted to explain nothing, because a lot of it... a lot of it would scare him.

He might reject her today. Abandon her, leave her all alone. Just like all of the others.

But she had to take that first step.

She took a deep, shaky breath, and began. "Ever since I was nine, I lived in foster care. Up until a few months ago, when I ran away."

Izu-kun shuffled on the bench, a quiet and worried scowl on his face, but neither moved to close the noticeable gap between them. "Why'd you run away?"

Himiko bit her lip, her long canines cutting into the soft flesh, and curled her legs up against her chest. "... Because I did something stupid."

"W-what?"

One of the questions she didn't want to answer. But, looking into Izu-kun's eyes, she knew it was one of the questions she _had _to answer. If she told him, she'd scare him. But if she didn't, then all of this would be pointless.

She had made her choice. And she refused to let herself take one step back, no matter how much the voice in the back of her head screamed at her to stop. "I bit her. And cut her. And drank her blood."

There were a few moments of silence where she was afraid to meet his eyes, but Izu-kun didn't respond. She glanced up, and he looked… uncertain, but not scared. As though he were expecting more? As though he had been expecting _worse_?

The boy shuffled a bit, wringing his hands together. "... Did you hurt her?"

That was the important part, wasn't it? In some ways, having to say it out loud hurt. But in others, the thought that he had to ask, that he didn't just jump to conclusions… it was comforting, in some small way. Not to mention, she had drank his blood too, and he hadn't run away. He had still come to see her. He still liked her.

… Was there a chance?

Himiko's heart leapt at the thought, desperately clutching at the small, unlikely hope she had just found. She licked her lips, her yellow eyes tracing the scar on his neck. Maybe, just maybe-

She snapped herself back to reality. Not here. Not now. Right now, she had things to say. And, if there was a chance that he might understand…

She'd cross that bridge when she got there.

"I hurt her. A lot." Izu-kun's breath hitched, and Himiko flinched, but she continued. "More than anything, though… I was afraid."

"Afraid?" Despite everything, Izu-kun scooted closer.

How could she explain it to him? How could she explain something that could only be experienced? Because what was terrifying, it wasn't just what they did. It was how long they did it. How alone she always was. How she couldn't control her own body, and couldn't be certain if something was real or just in her head. To put it into words…

It wouldn't be able to properly convey it.

She struggled for a moment, gnawing on her thumbnail as her breaths became short and labored.

"They were going to put me a mental ward." The words seemed to simple. Too _basic_. If Izu-kun understood, the words alone would be enough to make him wince. "And… and I've been to one before. They're scary, in a quiet way. They steal your soul away, day by day. They lock you in a room, control everything you see and do, fill you up with so many drugs that you can't tell if what's happening is real or just… just the monsters in your head. For days at a time, I'd be alone except for the doctors and nurses. And to them, I wasn't a person. I was a disease. I…" She struggled to piece the words together, her voice cracking under the strain of memories she just wanted to forget. But as she spoke, the words became colder, dripping with thick, stomach-twisting layers of slimy dread. "I didn't want to ever be in a place like that again. _I'd rather die._" She spat the words out, bitter and angry.

Izu-kun just stared, shocked into silence. No wonder. Dark, subdued, and uncertain, seeing her like this must seem so alien to him. He was used to seeing happy Himiko, cheerful Himiko, the girl that always wore a smile, whether they be playing or training. Not that that wasn't her, but… this was too.

"So…" Izu-kun fiddled with his fingers, as though he needed to expend some of his nervous energy, and had no idea how. "You ran away?"

A silent nod. That's all she needed to do. All she trusted herself to do. Her throat felt stiff and tight, as though trying to use it would make it crack.

"... Do you ever want to go back?"

Go back? For a moment, Himiko stopped chewing on her nail, surprised by the question. She knew she couldn't go back, but… if she could, would she want to?

"... No. I miss them, but…" She chewed on her lip, shaking her head. "There's a lot of stuff I don't miss. Foster parents didn't like me. They acted as though I was some wild animal they were forced to live with, until the foster service stopped assigning me new families. After that, I just lived in the foster care center. The staff were nice, but they didn't… well, they didn't treat me like the others. I could tell the smiles were forced. And the other kids, they thought I was a freak. Sometimes, they laughed at me, but mostly… mostly they just avoided me. And really, that hurt more. They said we were all family, but… No I wasn't. I was the skeleton in the closet. To be treated as an outsider, a failed case, it just… hurts…"

When she finished, the two simply sat in silence, both for their own reasons. Himiko steadied her breathing, preparing her heart and mind, while Izu-kun stared at the cement under his feet, absorbing the information. She could see it in his face, him carefully sorting and categorizing each new piece of information that she revealed. Anything she told him now, or ever, really, was bound to be sorted, marked, and remembered for years.

That only made her more nervous.

Suddenly, Izu-kun gasped, as though he had just solved an equation he had been working on for years. "So, when you read my… my note..!"

There it was. Himiko smiled, emotionally exhausted but pleased. If there was one thing she could gamble on, it was his ability to connect dots. She reached out, laying her hand over his and her eyes filled with warmth.

"We're the same. That's what I feel, at least. The world is such a hard place to live, seeing the pain in your eyes… I thought maybe you'd understand."

She had never tried to kill herself. Not seriously, at least. An idle thought, a 'what-if' that teased at the back of her mind on particularly gray and lonely days. An idea she had toyed with before, a child playing with a dead bird out of sheer desperation. But when she read that note, saw the lines upon lines of red ink and shaky handwriting, it was like reading something she herself had wrote.

Maybe the fine details were different.

Maybe the exact reasons were different.

But the core was the same.

And that was what mattered, in her heart, at least.

Izu-kun eyes seemed to be anywhere but Himiko's, still clouded with dozens of messy, unorganized thoughts. But, at her touch, he didn't pull away. No, instead….

Instead, he weaved his fingers into hers.

A pink blush spread across his cheeks, but he nodded, swallowing his nerves as he nervously met her eyes. "... I do. I, uh, I think. But, why are you telling me this?"

Scooting just a bit closer, she clamped onto his hand like it was her only lifeline. She had only said a few small things, a few snowflakes on the tip of the iceberg. But each and every word came out like a pulled tooth, each and every reaction a punch to the gut.

Why did her heart hurt so much? It was on fire. And her throat felt like she had just drank a big cup of sand. Her insides were so twisted and churned up, she couldn't trust her voice to actually speak.

She had to keep going.

Even if she couldn't say everything, she had to say something.

Her words were little more than a heartfelt whisper, and Izu-kun had to lean in to hear. "What's been worrying me is that, you've been getting hurt, but won't tell me. Like you don't trust me. And part of me wanted to be angry at you, but…" Her voice caught, but she forced herself to continue. "But I never told you why I'm here in the first place. Why I don't go to school, or have a home. You just let me in, accepting me without asking questions. And… if I didn't trust you enough to tell you about myself, I didn't have the right to be upset when you didn't trust me."

When she finished, nothing moved.

She didn't speak.

He didn't speak.

Even the wind was quiet.

Why was she doing this? Did she really think telling him all of this would make him trust her? Make him care? There was a wall between them, as impassible as it was fundamental.

Izu-kun was a victim trying to become a hero.

Himiko was a monster trying to be human.

There were some things that simply 'were,' with no explanation, caveats, or work-arounds.

And one of those was that she wasn't normal. She couldn't have a normal life. She couldn't have a normal job, or a normal school, or a normal home. No normal family, no normal friends, no normal love.

No Izu-kun.

The tears in her eyes stung so much, she almost didn't notice Izu-kuns arms wrapping around her.

Warm.

Warm and soft.

Gentle but firm.

Tight, but not strangling.

His touch was cautious, wholly uncertain and unsure, but…

But so completely genuine.

So honestly caring, so openly kind.

This wasn't things were supposed to be. She was supposed to be supporting him. She was supposed to be soothing him, helping him, pushing him to be better. But here she was, on the other side of that. Being cared for. Being comforted.

Not by some uncomfortable social worker.

Not by some paid psychologist.

But by someone who actually wanted to be with her.

And…

And it felt good. So good. Her chest still hurt, and her eyes still burned, and nothing felt right. But in his arms, it felt good. She hugged him back, burying her face in his shoulder as hot, salty tears stung her cheeks.

Stop crying.

Please stop crying.

Please just stand up, and give him a wide smile.

The sort that says everything is all ok. The sort that tells him that he doesn't need to worry.

At least pretend to be okay.

Her mind screamed at her, But her body ignored it, clutching the boy closer. She opened the vault. She let her emotions out of their little corner. And now, she had no choice but to let them run their course. Her shoulders shook, and her fingernails dug into his back. The smell of his sweat filled Himiko's nose, and her teeth itched, begging to bite him, begging to taste blood.

But then, his hand, as unsteady as her own, stroked through her thin hair, and he leaned his head against hers.

"I-I'm…" Izu-kun sputtered, sloppily stitching words together like a student surgeon on the first day of class. "I'm so sorry. I, uh, I do trust you. A lot. And… I never wanted to make you think otherwise."

Really? Himiko bit her lip, but didn't speak, trying her hardest to calm her adrenaline-riddled body. Izuku could say that, but words were cheap. Aimi called herself Himiko's friend, but she was her main bully half the time. Dr. Teshima said he understood, but he still treated her like an animal to be tamed. So he could say he could trust her but what was the poi-

"It… was a classmate of mine." Himiko's thoughts ground to a halt as Izu-kun began. Her muscles loosened a little, but she didn't move, simply listening to his voice as she steadied her breathing. "... I've known him for a really long time. He's always been kind of a jerk, ever since we were kids. But, in the past few months, he's gotten… more intense. More aggressive."

Of course.

She had known it.

It hadn't been hard to guess, especially after re-reading his note, again and again.

A bully. A tormenter.

Part of her was angry. Angry at Izu-kun for not telling her. Angry at the bully for existing. Angry at herself for not controlling her emotions in front of him. But the rest of her was too tired. A few glowing sparks buried in a mountain of damp wood. Her heart was exhausted. And besides…

Part of her was relieved. Her heart might've been sore, but it wasn't as tight as before. It was a worn out rubber band, rather than a squeezed spring.

He told her. Izu-kun trusted her enough to tell her. But, because of that, she had a responsibility.

Himiko pulled herself closer, and settled in a more comfortable position, straddling his lap and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Nuzzling into his shoulder, she pressed her ear to his neck, and let her mind focus on the sound of his pulsing veins. The universal song, the sound of every living creature. Izu-kun stiffened under her, resting his hands on the small of her back but unable to even try and relax. It was… cute. And just like him. Himiko smiled, a weak little thing. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that his face was bright red, but saw that plenty. The sound of his blood was more important, a special treat.

"... Did you fight back?" Her voice was little more than a puff of whispering wind. There were a lot of things to ask. Who was it, how long, how could they stop them, how could Himiko help. But that was the most important one, at least right now. Because, if Izu-kun refused to fight back… Then all of Himiko's training had been useless. Because she wasn't teaching him the techniques of how to fight.

No, she had been teaching him the mindset.

Izu-kun sighed, and shrugged. "Mostly. I, uh... don't win, though." He sounded defeated. On the verge of giving up. Pushed to the edge of hopelessness.

Himiko's smile flickered away, and a scowl marred her face. "You will. I know you can."

Izuku let out a self-defeating laugh, the sort that just sounded sad and broken. "I think I lose just by fighting." He tensed under her, and even the sad humor left his voice, replaced by looming anger. "The school always blames me, after all."

The school was against him too?

… In some ways, Himiko wasn't surprised. She had had far more than her fair share of that sort of experience. The principal at her middle school liked her in the same way he liked injury paperwork; the less he had to see, the better. She'd admit, she caused dozens of problems just by existing, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

And Izu-kun didn't deserve that treatment, not by any stretch.

"... You only lose if you give up, and I know you won't." Himiko took a deep breath, and sighed. "We'll figure it out."

"'W-we?'"

At the sound of his panic, Himiko giggled, a lighthearted sound. "Yep. We have our promise, don't we?"

"... Y-yeah, we do." His hands moved up and down the small of Himiko's back, unable to find a spot that was comfortable enough to soothe his embarrassment. "But what does that have to do with this?"

"You promised me to make the world a better place, so obviously I have to help!"

"... I guess so, yeah."

The two lapsed into a comfortable silence. Or, at least, comfortable for Himiko. She could feel Izu-kun relaxing under her, but he was still plenty tense. She smiled to herself, warm in his arms despite the October wind. The world grew darker, the reds turning to purple and the blues to black. Street lights flickered on, and the milky splatter of stars revealed itself in the night sky.

A lot hurt. Her heart felt awful. Her eyes still stung a bit. But…

But she felt good. Maybe happy wasn't the right word, not entirely. But good. Snuggled into Izu-kuns arms, knowing that he not only listened to her, but that he trusted her… it was satisfying. A lot of things still needed fixed, but for that moment, at least, the world was in balance.

"Toga," Izu-kun spoke up, his small voice somehow slipping past the silence instead of breaking it. "What are you going to do during the winter?"

"Hm? What do you mean?" She didn't even know what she was going to do tomorrow, let alone all winter. Help him train, obviously. Re-read wolf children, like she did every month. Maybe buy a new book, if she got a chance? Scraping up the money would be hard, but there was a book she saw about the human gut biome that she'd love to read...

"In a few weeks, it's probably going to start snowing." Izu-kun continued, and Himiko _aah_ed in realization. "And while the garage has been ok for the past few months… W-well, I'm worried about during the winter."

She cocked her head a bit, her chin firmly planted on his shoulder, and curled a tuft of his hair around on finger. "I'm not sure. I haven't really thought about it. Maybe you can give me a blanket?" She snickered teasingly.

"A blanket?" Izu-kun set his jaw, her prodding flying right over his head as he set about mumbling his way down a rabbit hole.. "No, that wouldn't be enough... Three, at least… But what about the floor underneath you? It would be extremely cold too, so we'd need either another blanket or possibly a carpet… But what about your head, or when you're outside of the blankets? Would it be more efficient simply to try and insulate the garage instead? If we closed the door, all we'd have to do is seal the edges. But that would only insulate it, not actually make it warm… Maybe we could get a room heater? But how to power it..?"

"You're worrying too much! I made it through last winter on my own, after all!" She laughed, her eyes alight with amusement. Him and his nerves. He shouldn't worry about her.

... But he was going to anyway. Her smile weakened a little, a handful of memories coming to mind. She had made it through last winter, but it had been far from easy. All the money she had went towards buying snacks in convenience stores. Not because she wanted them, but so she'd have an excuse to sleep at one of the tables, shielded from the biting winter cold.

The managers would kick her out anyways, most times. But sometimes they didn't.

And when they did, she had no choice but to find somewhere else. There were a few options, usually. Maybe they were ignored by society, but that didn't mean homeless people disappeared. They just hid were others wouldn't see them, so the police wouldn't kick them off the property. She bit the inside of her cheek, regret slipping into her heart.

They were always treated so poorly, but the homeless had been the only ones to help her. There was one woman, old and sick, but with a good sense of humor. 'I'm just a few days from dying anyway, so why bother with renting a house?' And then she would smile and laugh, trying to hide the job rejection letter in her hands. Maybe it wasn't always comfortable, or the best smelling, but she had been kind enough to share a tent with Himiko. She had almost nothing, but she was still willing to reach out and help a girl she didn't even know.

When she froze to death, Himiko had cried for days.

"... What about my house?" Izu-kun's voice snapped Himiko out of her melancholy memories. She pushed the thoughts away, and tried to focus on the feeling of Izu-kun's soft skin. The world hurt, but… but she should just think about the now. Then she'd be happy.

"Oh, you want me to move in?" She smiled teasingly, ignoring the sting in her heart. "You're that serious already?"

"W-what? No, that's not what I meant! I just-, Well, you know-!" Izu-kun sputtered out bits and pieces of words, before ducking his head, and speaking a bit more quietly. "I was just thinking, maybe the best thing to do would be to have you move in. I know that the apartment isn't huge, but we have a sofa, and that should be better than cold cement…"

She smiled, conjuring up a quick retort, before the reality of what he was saying hit her.

Staying at his house.

Living with him and Mrs. Midoriya.

Having…

Having a home.

An actual home that wanted her.

She spoke slowly, carefully.

"... Could I? Do you think Mrs. Midoriya would let me?"

"... If we came up with a reason, p-probably. Like…" Izu-kun bit his lip, and rubbed his chin. "Your parents are going to be abroad for a bit, and wanted you to stay with us?"

"Wouldn't we have to prove it somehow?" Himiko scowled, joining her companion in brainstorming. "I don't think she'd believe us if you just told her that."

The green-haired boy nodded, staring at the air in front of his face. "... I guess not. But…" He glanced up at the sky, as though he just realized how dark it had become. Apparently her touching him destroyed his sense of situational awareness. Himiko would have to remember that.

"We can talk about it tomorrow, though. We need to get going."

"Five more minutes." Himiko hugged him closer, refusing to move.

"... O-ok."

And for another five minutes, she held him close, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

Listening to the song of love.

**A/N: G'evein, all. I'm so sorry this was late! With finals, and studying, and everything else, this week was super busy. Not to mention, this scene was pretty hard. It was an emotional scene, with lots of feels and affection, both things I'm not very used to dealing with. So, thought? About how good out of 10? **

**So, we've finally hit 300 followers, not to mention 100 kudos! 313 follows, as of the time of uploading. And thus, in celebration, I've made a discord server! I'm happy to introduce to you the CATLT Cafe, just a little server for this community, where you can go to relax, hang out, and try and improve your writing. There are specific chats for reading recommendations, music, working on your writing or art, and chatting about BNHA or CATLT. The code is aAD3yX8 , so feel free to stop in, take a look around, and have a good time! (I posted a different link earlier, that apparently expired, so here's one that hopefully works!)**

**AO3:**

**ProfoundCranium: When you said "long-ass comment," you weren't kidding! I opened the email on my phone, and the text was too small for me to see! Had to open it on my computer to read. And, that said, I'm so happy you're enjoying it! To hear praise from another Togadeku author is extremely reassuring. It's good to know that those scenes carried quite the punch; albeit, they're far from the most influential, compared to what I have planned, and hopefully to be overshadowed in a few chapters. But to know they had your brain flip, it makes my sadistic author side get all tingly. **

**FFN:**

**Arsinis: You have absolutely no reason to apologise! Critical commentary like this is the only way I can improve, ain't it? So, really, a 'thank you' is well deserved. I'll try to work on the pacing; I've always personally preferred a slower writing style, even if that isn't everyone's cup of tea, and this first arc is already a pretty slow one. I can't promise to speed it up, but I'll try to make it more engaging. And on the matter of the Augur, he actually isn't just a plot device. While explaining Toga's backstory is his current job, he will actually be involved in multiple arcs with a variety of purposes and personal character growth. Though, aside from him being an OC, is there any particular reason you can't connect with him? While the pacing likely doesn't help, is there a particular part that makes him less interesting than the other characters? **

**(Unnamed guest): Is the Augur related to Nana? Well, I refuse to answer directly, both because I'm a jerk and like being super convoluted. But, I will say this: every detail has purpose. If I mentioned it, there's (probably) a reason. Every chapter has a few hints, small details that will fit into the puzzle chapters down the line. What does that mean? Mostly that my head is a mess most of the time as I obsess over things as tangentially related to the plot as Inko's minor doubts about her marriage and how Tsuruko's case is fucking with her sleep cycle.**


	13. Chapter 13

Izuku licked his lips and looked over the notesheet one last time. Filled to the brim with notes, that little sheet was the result of three days of planning. Some parts were neatly organized, bullet points and stiff, jerky characters; other parts were loose and flowing, the characters completely ignoring the lines and dozens of tiny, purposeless doodles spilling across the page. Two clashing styles so completely irreconcilable that it looked less like two people writing down notes together, and more like someone finished half their notes before someone else stole them and tried to turn it into an art gallery. It was a complete mess.

But somehow, the two of them completely understood it.

"Okay, just try to act normal."

"Will do!"

"If we do it all exactly as we planned, Mom shouldn't ask too many questions…"

"I'm ready! But do think you can do it?"

"... I-I think so..?"

"Then let's go!"

"Wait, Toga, n-"

Toga threw open the door to the apartment, her purple book bag slung over one shoulder and a big smile spread across her face. "Hiya, Mrs. Midoriya! We're home!"

"Ah, Toga-Chan!" Mom shouted from the kitchen, a welcoming smile carried on her warm voice. "I'm just about to fry the mackerel, do you want to come help me with the miso soup?"

"On it!" Himiko dropped her backpack on the sofa, and gave Izuku a wink before rolling up her sleeves and skipping to the kitchen. "Can I chop some veggies too? I made the knives nice and sharp last night!"

"Of course! Thank you for doing that." Mom sounded distracted, and from the sound of oil popping and chopsticks clicking, it wasn't hard to guess why. "They hadn't been sharpened in ages, so they're actually cutting really well…"

"It's great, isn't it? A sharp knife feels really good!" Toga disappeared into the kitchen, chittering away like a morning bird as she set to work. And, with that, Izuku was left alone in the living room, his book bag in hand and an anxious scowl on his face.

How on earth does Toga do that?

It's… it's kind of terrifying, really.

How easily she simply smiles and keeps going, as though today was perfectly normal.

As though they hadn't just spent an hour planning different lies they could tell Izuku's mom.

Izuku bit his lip, his stomach twisting into a sailor's knot.

Just-

Just act normal!

"I'm, uh, well-!" Izuku sputtered, trying his hardest to tame his electrified nerves. "I'm going to g-go get cleaned up!"

"Ok, dinner should be ready in a few minutes!"

Like a panicked racehorse let out of its stall, Izuku darted into his room. He tried to close the door carefully, but his clumsy, shaking hands slammed it shut anyways. Dropping his bag to the floor, he collapsed on his bed. After today's training, his muscles burnt like the settled cinders of a day-old bonfire, and the adrenaline coursing through his veins did little to help. All of his organs felt like they had switched places, and an overbearing sense of dread and guilt pulled at his heart.

Izuku wasn't comfortable with this. It was that simple.

He didn't want to lie to his mom. He didn't _want _to lie to anyone, but especially not to her. She had raised him to always tell the truth, even when it wasn't the most convenient, because broken trust was a hard thing to fix. Almost nothing was worth that risk.

But…

This was. Or, at least, Izuku thought it was. It had to be. After all, this was Toga's _life_ he was gambling on. Not some minor homework assignment, not an extra piece of cake. This was the fact that Toga didn't have a roof over her head, not to mention winter was only a few weeks away.

But it was still lying! And not just spur-of-the-moment, lying because he couldn't think of another solution type. No, this _was_ the solution. This was him and Toga spending hours trying to think up a way to trick his mom into letting her live with him. And no matter how justified it was, it still felt wrong!

A long and high-pitched wheeze escaped Izuku's lips, not unlike a pipe with a pressure leak.

Why did he have to do this? Why did he have to lie? It went against so much he had learned, and…

And he just didn't want to.

Just… just start with the small steps, ok?

He pushed himself off the bed, careful to remake the ruffled sheets. Snagging his towel off of his desk chair, he grabbed a set of spare clothes, and crossed the hallway to the bathroom. The door locked with a _click_, and the shower hissed to life, the water warming up as he stripped off his sweaty T-shirt and shorts. Thick steam filled the room, fogging up the mirror and filling his lungs. Stepping into the shower, he took a deep breath, and let the water douse him.

And then, he just took a moment to feel.

His muscles loosening.

The sweat being rinsed from his skin

The hot steam blanketing him, guarding him against the cold.

He sighed, the tension leaving his body as he leaned forward against the tiled wall.

Izuku loved showers.

It wasn't an active love, not the sort of thing his mind wandered to during daydreams or as his mind drifted to sleep. Not like… Well… Not like a certain blonde. He was already bright red from the shower, but Izuku had little doubt he was blushing. No, It was just one of those small, simply pleasures that Izuku would always enjoy in the moment, like the smell of a new comic book or the texture of well-worn action figures. It just had something innate about it that couldn't be described, but was undoubtedly comforting.

So even though Mom said to be ready soon, he took his time. And as he cleaned, thoroughly cleaning the mess of hair atop his head, his mind wandered to more… nerve-wracking subjects.

… What if he just told Mom plainly? Just explained to her from the beginning about Toga's homelessness, instead of waiting a few weeks. Would she let Toga stay with them? He bit his lip, his hands keeping busy with his hair far longer than it took to clean it. If he could, that would mean they wouldn't have to worry about a stressful 'second conversation,' not to mention the weight in his chest would be significantly lightened…

No, no, that wouldn't work. Mom was a nice person, but to just take in another child? That would be expensive, money they might not have. Not to mention, that would bring up a lot of questions it wasn't Izuku's place to answer, such as why she was a runaway in the first place. He wanted to explain everything, but Toga trusted him, and to tell Mom without asking Toga first… that would be betraying that trust. The sight of Toga crying flashed through his mind, her mask cracked just enough to reveal the broken person underneath, and Izuku's heart clenched. If he had a choice, he never wanted to see her like that again. And besides, how would Mom even react to hearing that Himiko had attacked someone? Probably not by offering to let her stay.

… Probably not like Izuku had. When she had told him, he had felt a flurry of emotions; shock, fear, concern. Those had all probably shown on his face, considering how much of a leaky basket he was. But there was one last emotion that hoped no one saw. One he wished he hadn't felt.

Jealousy.

Longing, gnawing jealousy.

Toga had bit someone. Cut them, and bit them, and drank their blood. That's what she had said, and they were words that kept running through his mind. At the moment, he had so many other things happening, so many other feeling jostling for control, that his jealousy couldn't even gain a foothold. But every time he went back to those words, his heart clenched, and his guts twisted. Izuku's fingers traveled along the cut on his neck, feeling her mark as he cast his eyes in shame.

… He wanted to be the one she bit. He wanted to be the one she cut. He wanted to hold her close, and feel her lips and teeth on his skin. Bloody kisses, bloody love. It was gruesome, and horrific, and completely unacceptable, but…

But was it _truly _wrong?

He didn't even know anymore.

The thought made his stomach want to expel its contents.

What on earth was wrong with him!? He clenched his teeth, and sucked in a sharp breath. He wanted to be a hero! He wanted to save people with a smile, just like-... Well, just like a hero should! But time and time again, he found his mind wandering to things that he promised to never think about again, and late at night, he found himself looking through websites he swore to never look at again.

Twisted things.

Disgusting things.

Pictures and videos that shouldn't exist, not in any just or moral world.

But… he still watched them.

Purple bruises. Silver metal. Black leather. Animalistic sex.

And most importantly, blood. Lots of blood.

What he saw online, he knew it wasn't real. He hoped it wasn't real. But whenever he remembered that time in the alley, Toga's knife just moments away from ending his life… His heart beat faster, and butterfly knives tore at the inside of his stomach.

His mind couldn't help but calculate the possible scenarios, no matter how fantastical or unrealistic.

The water rolled down his shoulders, splattering against tile.

Izuku wheezed, a tense and stressed sound, and shut off the shower. Stepping out, he dried himself, and slipped on a baggy T-shirt along with a set of loose pajama bottoms. The pants were actually still soft and fluffy, since they were only a few weeks old. Almost all of his personal clothes had been hero themed before, so… well, he had replaced them. A simple set of green felt PJs was nice, the sort that kept his legs comfortably warm, even when rolled up to the knees. In some ways, it still felt weird though. Ever since he had met All Might, all those months ago, his life changed.

Izuku had been pushed down. He was forced to realize that not even his hero believed in him. But…

That had given him time to reflect. To think, and realize what really mattered to him. What he really wanted in life.

And, with no small amount of help from Toga, he had come out stronger.

A small smile came to his face, despite all of the chaos in his head.

He opened the door to his room, and carefully hung the towel beside his window, before dropping into his desk chair. Grabbing the book off of his desk, he leafed through the pages, and his eyes wandered.

A lot changed. His room felt totally different. And…

He liked it. Not because it made him feel safer, or like he 'could be a hero, too.' No, he had moved past needing hollow reassurances like that. Toga had _pushed _him past needing those reassurances. Instead, his room was filled with _how _he was going to become a hero. Where there once were posters of All Might's smiling face, there were now maps and newspaper articles, keeping track of everything from rising stars in the hero world to the Equalist Party's recent success in national polls. His bookshelves were lined with guides on first aid and martial arts, intro to law and journalism, and most things inbetween. Had he mastered all of those things? Of course not. He wasn't going to pretend he had improved that much. But he had started.

Ah, here he was. He caught the page in his hand, his eyes scanning over the bold words at the top of the page. Chapter six, 'Conquests by Virtue.'

Izuku scowled, and began spinning his knife in one hand, the thin blade slipping between his fingers just like Toga had taught him as his eyes began to travel across the page.

He wasn't going to change the world just by being a hero. It was that simple. In fact, he couldn't change the world just by being the _best _hero. All Might may be the symbol of peace, but Izuku doubted that he alone could change society how Izuku wanted.

And so Izuku had to be _more _than that. Or, at least, different. He glanced up at one of the articles on his wall, about the Equalist Party and its leader. Populists, who had been making a splash since their formation a half-decade ago. Fourteen seats in the House of Counselors, and another twenty in the House of Representatives. Not a large party, and he didn't agree with everything they stood for, but they were certainly better than the others. All of the other political parties were dominated by quirked people, but the Equalists, they actually seemed to care about those who were oppressed. Not just the quirkless; those with mutation quirks too, alongside the poor and homeless. He still had a few years before he could vote, but-

"Ouch!"

A sharp pain shot up Izuku's hand, and his knife clattered to the wooden floor. He bit his lip, trying to shake the pain out of his hand, and set down his book as he plucked up the knife.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! The number one rule she had taught him was to be careful! His fingers stung so much, like an animal had bit him!

… Despite himself, he let out a lighthearted chuckle. When he said he wanted to be cut, this wasn't quite what his meant. He flicked the knife shut, setting it on his desk before he inspecting his hand.

At the sight, blood drained from his face, a blank smile stuck on his lips.

That...

That was a lot of blood.

His fingers were absolutely coated in it, the knife having slit open three of his fingers. It dribbled down the back of his hand and down his arm, a steady trickle of crimson.

Any semblance of composure disappeared from his face.

W-what was he supposed to do?! His eyes flashed between the open door and his hand, and he rushed to catch the droplets tumbling off his elbow. He whimpered, his voice caught in his throat as his mouth fumbled with pointless words. Clean it! Clean it, and stop the bleeding! In the bathroom? A-and should he tell anyone first? Where was the first aid kit?! Oh god, it was pooling in his hand! And it was-

It was still hot.

He paused, glancing down at the pool in his hand.

Blood. His blood.

His motions, so hurried and panicked just moments before, were suddenly slow and steady. His head turned, green eyes settling on red blood.

Crimson blood, dark and hypnotizing.

… It wouldn't hurt anyone, right?

He licked his lips, his heart thudding in his chest as he swallowed his shame.

It was just his own.

He leaned forward, letting the thick, metallic smell fill his nostrils.

And… And no one else would know.

A quick taste.

J-just to see.

That was okay, right?

He licked up just a little from his knuckles, just enough to get the taste.

It was… odd. Not bad. But odd. Metallic. Bitter. Not what he had expected.

But what had he been expecting?

… A little more wouldn't hurt, though.

He licked his knuckles clean, and the blood off his lips, before focusing the small pool in his other hand.

Why was he doing this? And why was he so eerily calm? It was as though focusing on the flavor had calmed his mind, given him something to grab onto in the raging storm that was his anxiety-ridden mind. He knew it was wrong. But he couldn't stop. His tongue traveled up his arm, catching the small trickle, and he let the flavor fill his mouth. Thick and heavy, it tasted like he was drowning.

It was a sharp taste, rough and unrefined.

It tasted good.

… Maybe that's why Toga had licked him, back in the alley. It… made some sense. While it didn't carry the rush of a drug, or… what Izuku assumed a drug would have, it certainly tasted comfortable. Harsh, and bitter, but comfortable. Almost… well, like life.

It tasted like life.

"Izu-kun, dinnertime!"

Izuku practically screamed, jumping out of his skin as he whipped around. "T-T-T-Toga!"

The girl popped her head through the open door, a stirring spoon in one hand and a teasing grin on her face. "What's wrong, Izu-kuuun? Hiding something from me?" She giggled, casting a glance towards her companion.

It had taken months for Izuku to understand Toga's expressions. He wasn't particularly good with other people in the first place, and Toga made it no easier. Not only were her expressions so completely different from everyone he'd met, they also were defined by minute differences in her smile or the light in her eyes. Add to that they tended to flash across her face in a short series, only to be quickly covered by her normal teasing smile, and it made it near impossible for most people to tell how she was really feeling. This included Izuku for the first few months, who was really only able to tell what she was thinking when she told him. But over time, he had learned, mostly through trial and error. And, in that moment, with him frozen in terror, all of that studying had come to fruition.

First, there was surprise, her bright yellow eyes going wide.

And then confusion, where her eyebrows furrowed and her scowl deepened.

This was followed by excitement, unbridaled and raw energy lighting up her smile.

And finally, her face settled into restrained curiosity, like a cat watching a bird from a few paces away.

The feline wanted to pounce, but she needed to know more.

Learning this all in a few brief seconds did absolutely nothing to calm Izuku's rising terror.

"So, Izu-kun…" Toga's toxic eyes burned into Izuku, and she stepped into the room, quietly closing the door behind her. It clicked shut, and her sharp smile only grew larger. "Whatcha doin'?" She spoke quietly, smoothly, but the air was filled with tense electricity.

"I, uh, well, I'm-" Oh god, what was he doing? What was he supposed to say? Nothing he could say would justify the fact that he's standing in his room, drinking his own blood! "I just accidentally cut myself!" The words came out far too quickly, and his voice cracked halfway through.

He couldn't sound more like he was lying even if he wanted to.

Toga laughed, a lopsided sound that made Izuku think of a predator looming over its prey. Hands behind her back, she lazily weaved towards him, step by casual step. And her eyes, yellow and putrid, didn't leave Izuku for a moment.

He was back in the alley. A stone statue with a panicked heart, alone and frozen as the girl came ever closer. Unable to move. Unable to flee. Unable to react.

And she was edging ever closer.

"Doesn't it taste good?"

"H-huh?"

She smiled, her canines fully exposed. "Your blood. Doesn't it taste good?"

… He didn't want to answer that. Not out loud. Not where others could hear it. Not where he could hear it.

Izuku stumbled back a step, but Toga stepped forward, erasing the space between them. She stared up at him, her fingers woven together behind her back as she hunched forward. Her eyes, cold and curious, traveled over him, settling on…

On his hand.

On his blood.

Oh god, she looked even more excited!

His chest hurt. His breaths were too shallow, and his heartbeat was too fast. It felt like his heart was trying to burst out of his chest, but his muscles were tightening as much as they could to prevent it. And, despite it all, his mind was far, far away, trying to fend of the hormones and emotions that were tearing apart the logical side of his mind.

The logical part of him had an answer. No, it didn't taste good! It tasted like human blood! And it was an unspoken rule that you weren't supposed to drink it! There were reasons for it, too! For heroes' sake, did he want to get HIV?

But…

But the emotional part of him...

He licked his lips, swallowing his anxiety as he tried to speak. "... Y-yeah. Like… Like metal. And life." Toga's eyes flashed at that, her smile growing so wide it like like her cheeks were about to start tearing. Izuku bit his lip, casting his eyes towards the ground as he cradled his bloody arm. "But, isn't it, you know… weird?"

Toga took another step closer and giggled, rolling her head to one side. "Maybe for others. But does that matter?"

Does that matter? _Does that matter?!_

"Of course it does!" Izuku snapped back, a bit harsher than he meant to. He was afraid, and it was showing. He was panicked, and confused, and for Toga to not even understand that, it was-

"Why?"

At the sound of Toga's voice, Izuku's barreling train of thought ground to a halt. She spoke so calmly, so normally. Her voice sounded so innocent, like a young child asking why weren't allowed to just take food from stores. But in her prying eyes, in her thin smile, it was more than that. She understood. She knew the answer.

But she wanted to know his answer.

"Well, uh…" Izuku fumbled with his words, focusing on the book he was reading just so that he wouldn't have to meet Toga's eyes. How do you explain why it's wrong? It just is! Where was he supposed to start? There's just so much, and it's just common sense! But despite that, his mouth seemed unable to piece together anything intelligible. "... It's probably not healthy, and… it's not normal at all, and..." His voice petered off, nervous and weak.

That's what he said?! Wasn't there anything more definitive, more _intelligent_? He spent hours shouting at himself about this in his own mind, listing reason after reason, but the moment he had to say it out loud, the words just wouldn't come!

Watching him closely, Toga slowly reached out, her fingers grazing his injured hand. Izuku gasped and flinched away, more out of uncertainty than pain, but he let her grab his hand. Her touch was soft and careful, gently drawing his hand out to where she could see it. Her feline eyes looked over the cuts, and the curiosity in her eyes was infused with a light of childish satisfaction. And finally, she gazed up at him, her voice full of coy excitement.

"Does it hurt people?"

"Huh?"

"Others, the people that you're worried about. Are you hurting them? And…" Watching his reaction like a scientist observing an experiment, she leaned forward, licking the blood off of his knuckles. "Am I hurting you?"

His heart.

She kissed his cuts, her teeth brushing against his flesh.

Oh god.

Heart.

Heart please!

Please slow down!

_You're going to pop!_

"N-no, but-!" His eyes darted back and forth, filled with panic. He wasn't prepared for this! Not at all! What was he supposed to do? He wanted to… Oh god, don't think that! He couldn't do that! But he didn't want her to stop, and-

"Your quirk!" He blurted the words out, not entire sure of what he was saying.

Toga froze where she was, her tongue still on his skin as she watched him in mild confusion. "Mai kwuirk?"

… He hadn't thought this far.

He hadn't thought at all, actually.

He bumbled through his words, stuttering and stumbling. "Y-your quirk, yeah! You, uh, you never told me what it was, so… what is it..?" He ducked his head, sheepishly trying to smile.

It was so fake it could've been made in China.

He was an idiot. Such an idiot. There was a brief moment of silence as the two simple stared at each other. He could see it in Toga's eyes, the complete befuddlement as she tried to understand what was going on in his head. But she wasn't going to figure it out. Not even Izuku knew what was going on inside his head.

And then, Himiko let out a giggle, light and feather-like. She let go of his hand and covered her mouth, breaking down in laughter.

"U-uh, Toga, are you ok..?" Why was she laughing? What was so funny?

Toga caught herself, stumbling back just a step before looking him dead in the eye, as though she completely understood him. "Okay, then! I'll tell you!"

"Really?" Izuku shouted, almost forgetting the pain in his hand. "L-like, actually tell me?"

"Mm-hm! But first-!" She shot forward, her hand closing around his neck and her tongue traveling all the way across his cheek. But before he could react, she pushed off of him, casually careening towards the door. She tapped her cheek, licking her lips. "You had a little bit on you."

Izuku's face blossomed pink, and not even he could understand the gibberish leaving his mouth.

A single amused chuckle escaped Toga's lips, and she jerked her head towards the door. "Do ya wanna go get sewn up? You're blood is cute, but it's getting on the floor!"

"Wha-?" Izuku glanced down, only to find a few droplets or red on the brown wooden panels. He gasped, looking between the floor and his bloody arm, before he darted out of the room. "I'll, uh, um, I'll be right back!"

"Oookay! Thanks for the meal!" Toga waved to him as he left, but Izuku didn't look back.

"Mom!" He ran out, slamming the door behind him as he rushed to the dining room. He skid to a stop just in time to not hit the table, and spun to catch sight of his mom putting the finishing touches on dinner in the kitchen. The smells of fried fish and miso soup lingered in the air, a scent that would normally leave Izuku's mouth watering, but this time it barely even registered. "Mom, w-where the first aid?"

"Huh?" She glanced up from the mackerel, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. "What do you need the first aid fo- Oh my god, Izuku, what happened?!" The plump woman practically dropped the plate of fried fish on the counter, her expression dissolving into panic as she rushed to her son.

Izuku bit his lip, their panic playing off one another over and over in some tense, vicious cycle. He held his hand out to her, letting her see the long cuts across the back of his back three fingers as his mind rushed to put together sentences. "I, uh, I was playing with my knife, and-"

"You were _what_?" Mom shouted, her green eyes wide.

He shouldn't have said that! Definitely shouldn't have said that! He should just shut up, but his mouth ignored his brain, a speeding train without breaks. "Well, uh, Toga had given me a knife, and I was just fiddling it while I was reading, and-"

"Sit down! Sit down first!" Mom grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing him down into a chair before scrambling to the kitchen. She threw open the cabinets under the sink, and began tearing through its contents and tossing them to the side. "First aid, first aid, where is it...? Here!" She snatched up a blue plastic box with a red cross, and and quickly sat in the chair next to her son.

She wiped a warm, wet cloth across his hand, wiping off the blood before grabbing a tube of cream out the box. A heavy silence overtook the two as she worked, only occasionally interrupted by muttering nervously to herself or an occasional thumping sound from Izuku's room. He would be concerned more by that second one, but honestly…

Watching his mom work, so worried as she tenderly treated him, his heart felt heavy.

He should've been more careful. Even Toga had told him to be. One of the first things she had ever taught him was to never be reckless with a blade. Really, he was lucky; the cut wasn't that deep, but had it been only a few millimeters in either direction, he could've cut a joint. And that could've had permanent consequences.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek, looking away in shame.

"... I'm sorry."

"Why did Toga-chan give you a knife?" She ignored his apology, jumping straight to her main question. Mom's voice wasn't cold, but it most certainly wasn't warm, and it was plenty stern.

Izuku frowned, trying to avoid Mom's gaze as he slipped out a sigh. He had messed up. And he hadn't even told his mom he was learning to use knives. It was stupid. _He _was stupid. He wanted to deny it. Say that it hadn't been Toga. That it had been his fault. In many ways, it was his fault. But he wasn't going to lie. "... Because she's helping me train to be a hero."

Setting down the tube of cream, Mom gave him a stern look. "Izuku, you need to be careful." She sighed, a long and weary sound, and picked a bandaid up off the table, one of several. "While I don't appreciate you having a knife without telling me… I know you don't have many options. Just… please be careful, ok? I'm going to have to talk with Toga-chan after this." Her voice softened, but it still carried with it the authority of a worried mother.

"O-ok…"Izuku could only respond weakly, a cub having been scorned by Mama Bear.

Mom continued to work, but Izuku just sat there, watching her. And, it seemed, despite what was happening, only one thought could go through his head.

This wasn't according to plan.

Part of him wanted to laugh, in that nervous, reluctant way. Another part thought it was ridiculous that, after everything, that was what he thought about. It wasn't like it was a well made plan anyway. 'Oh, Toga's parents are just out ot town for the weekend, and she didn't really feel comfortable sleeping alone in her house.' That might be better than the 'her parents were going abroad' plan, but only slightly, and not enough to make it any more realistic. Even if Mom did believe that, how would she react a few days later when they would have to tell her the truth? How were they supposed to convince his mom to let Toga stay without something to back up their lie? It didn't make any sense, the more that he thought about it. But…

But they had to try.

He swallowed his fear, trying to gather all of his courage into his uncertain heart.

"A-about Toga…"

"Hm?" Mom glanced up, distracted as she tried to fit the bandaids over his knuckles.

He scratched at his chin, his free hand searching for something, _anything_, to do. "Can she… Can she stay with us?"

His mom froze. There were a few moments where nothing moved, except for the thudding of his heart and the sound of a fan spinning.

Izuku had already messed up. He knew it. No matter how hard he tried, he always found the worst possible way to mess up, the worst times to ask, and this time was no diff-

Mom pressed the last bandaid down on his finger, smoothing it out before looking up at her son. "Why?"

Izuku opened his mouth to speak, but his mind was suddenly blank.

The plan.

What was the plan?

_Oh no._

And suddenly, his mouth was moving, without any input or permission from his brain.

"W-well, her parents are going to be abroad for a bit, and the were wondering if she could stay with us, and-!"

He caught sight of the disappointed look in his mom's eyes, and the words died in his mouth. "... And…"

All of the tension left his body, leaving only hollow shame.

It was her eyes. He couldn't bear to look at them. She looked… sad. Like he had let her down. And he had. He had lied. He had chosen to lie. It didn't matter what the reason was, he felt awful. He knew why he had done it, but…

But it was still wrong.

"... Izuku, dear, I know you care about her." She held his hand, speaking softly. "But please don't lie. It doesn't make anything better."

"... I-... I know. And I'm sorry." Izuku stared at the wooden floor, unable to look up at her. Tears burned the edges of his eyes. Not only had he failed. He had failed everyone. He had failed his mom's trust, lying straight to her face. He had failed Toga, unable to find her a home.

An image of Toga popped into his mind, shivering and freezing in her cardigan in some dark, cold back alley as cutting wind carried down bone-chilling snow. Alone, trapped in solitude.

Because he had failed.

Izuku hissed, sucking in a tight breath and shaking as the first tears stung his cheeks.

"I know she's homeless."

Izuku's head shot up. "H-huh?"

She sighed, shuffling in her seat. She looked the same as she always had, the fluffy sort of woman that looked natural with a smile on her face. But there was no smile on her face, and that changed everything. She looked… exhausted. Pushed to the edge, with too much to do and too little time to rest. Like she had been trying her hardest for years, but it was never enough. Like the years had finally caught up with her.

"Izuku, it's obvious." She started packing up the first aid kit, her movements sluggish and absent minded. "She practically lives with us already. In seven months, she's come home with you and ate dinner with us every night. Sometimes, I let her take showers, because I can tell she can't anywhere else. And no matter how much she ties up her hair in those balls, I can tell she hasn't gotten a haircut this entire time. She rarely talks about her family, and when she does, it's always in the past tense. Honey, she barely even hides it."

Mom was right.

For All Might's sake, Izuku had known the moment he walked into that alley for the first time.

For seven months, she had been living in a garage, surviving off of the dinner and snack he gave her.

And he hadn't done anything about it.

Izuku grit his teeth, self-loathing and anger mixing into the already messy stew of emotions in his mind.

He had never done anything. He was afraid. Afraid to speak up. Afraid to pretend something was wrong. Afraid to disrupt the little sense of normality the two had built.

And he hated it.

"... Can she stay?" He spoke through ragged breaths.

Maybe Mom would would say no. Maybe it wouldn't work. But even if she did, he'd find a way. He didn't know how. But he would.

Toga had supported him for so long, it was time for him to do the same.

"Izuku, she's a runaway, not a dog." Mom put her hand over his, as though that would comfort him. "It's not like all she needs is to be fed and taken on walks. She's a person."

"Mom, winter is coming. If she doesn't have a place to live, t-then-" He choked the words out, forcing them past a dry throat. "Then she could die. She needs a home. And, just as much… she needs a family."

Toga was so many things. Hyper. Enthusiastic. Supportive and encouraging. But she was also human, and especially after a few days ago, Izuku could see the wires pulling at her feline smile. She was lonely. Just as much as she needed a roof over her head, she needed a family to share it with. And Izuku would do everything in his power to make sure she did.

His mother watched him for a moment, hesitantly opening her mouth to speak, before closing it to reconsider. And then, she smiled in that sad, wistful way. As though she were proud of him, but still had to tell him no. "... You're a kind person, Izuku. But sometimes, the best thing we can do is let the authorities take care of her. That way, they can take her back to her actual family."

That wasn't what he had meant at all! Izuku bit his lip, desperately holding back the flood of words trying to leave his mouth. She didn't have a family, genetic or genuine! She was alone, and this was their chance to help her! But how could he explain that to her? How could he explain it without telling Mom everything Himiko had entrusted to him? He shrunk down, fiddling with his own fingers. "But, what if she doesn't want to go back..? What if… going back might be worse for her?"

After hearing Toga explain why she left, it wasn't hard to put two and two together. She had hurt another girl at the foster home, and so she had to run. And that meant, if she went back, she was going to be punished. She was going to be put into a mental ward.

'_I didn't want to ever be in a place like that again. I'd rather die.'_

When she said that… it had been so cold. So absolute. As though it was more than just hyperbole.

Izuku shivered against the chill in his heart.

Mom shifted her head to one side, a concerned scowl tugging at the edges of her lips. "Why?"

Izuku squeezed his hands together, trying to release the bundles of nervous energy in his chest. "I… I shouldn't be the one to tell you. But… she can't go back. It wouldn't end well."

Izuku was being too vague, and he knew it. But he couldn't say anything more, not without betraying Toga. He lowered his gaze, and let out a long breath.

Where else could she stay? A hotel? A homeless shelter? Were there any homeless shelter nearby?

He didn't know, and he didn't have much time to find out.

Mom's eyes were traveling over him, their dark green irises filled with worry. But finally, she spoke up. "... I can talk to her about it. Maybe we can find a way to let her stay."

… Really?

His mouth suddenly realized that he hadn't spoke, and let out his words with a burst of excited energy.

"R-really?" There was a chance! There was a chance that she could stay! Relief flooded his body, like clean water washing away all the junk from a toxic, polluted riverbed, and a wide smile spread across his face. He needed to tell Toga!

He moved to push himself up, but Mom caught him by the wrist, pulling him back down. "It's not a promise! But, if her home situation really is the problem, than I don't want to be the one that put her back in it. And besides…" She gave him a stern scowl, but it quickly softened. And, in something that could only be compared to a loving sunset rising over a cracked and dusty field, her sad features were replaced by a warm smile. "Seeing you two together, it makes me happy. Ever since she's popped into our lives, you've begun to smile more. And, in the evenings, our house has begun to truly feel like a happy home. And, for your sake, and for hers, I don't want to give that up."

Tears were forming in Izuku's eyes again.

But this time, they weren't bad tears.

No, they were happy tears. Tears of joy.

He gripped his mom's hand, her pudgy little fingers somehow both soft and squeezable, and calloused.

They were a family. Him, and Mom, and Toga. Or rather…

Him, and Mom, and Himiko.

But then, something caught his eye. And Izuku's blood froze.

There, peeking out from behind the corner, was a person. A person with a wide, feline grin.

A very familiar person, with mossy-green hair, and a sprinkling of freckles.

It was Izuku.

_There was a second Izuku._

"M-Mom," Izuku's tongue bumbled, his entire body stone-still with terror. "There's two of me."

What was going on? Why was there a second him? And why was it standing there, so perfectly still and silent? Oh god, it's smile! It's eyes! It was watching him so closely, like a predator peeking through the bushes. He was the prey, and this twisted reflection of him, hiding just a few paces away, was some nightmarish predator. His entire body was shaking, and he could feel his his heart pounding in his ears.

Mom chuckled, unable to see the monster behind her. "Honey, even if she lives here, she could never replace you. You're my son."

That's what she was thinking about?! His eyes would've glanced towards her, but they were locked on the… _thing_ in the corner, as though looking away for one second would mean a quick, bloody death by slashing claws.

"N-no, I mean there's a second me!" The words came out as a shout, and his hand shot towards the doppelganger, pointing at it.

His mom looked at him in confusion and concern, before turning around and catching sight of the thing. "What do you mea- _What on earth?!_"

And then, the thing gave a far-too-wide, unnervingly familiar grin. "Hiya, everyone!" It waved at them, slipping from one foot to the other in some sort of game it was playing with itself.

… What?

The two Midoriyas stared at the thing, one confused by why there was something that looked identical to her son, head to toe, and the other having a moment of eurika.

"T-Toga?" The words stumbled out of his mouth, Izuku somehow understanding the situation even before his mind connected all the dots.

"Mm-hm!" She smiled, leaping forwards and giving Izuku a playful hug. "How do I look?"

"L-like Izuku!" Mom joined in, her entire body shaking as her eyes jerked up and down the girl's body. And Izuku was intrigued, too, enough so that it completely overrid his typical feelings of shock and anxiety.

He reached up, holding the faux Izuku's face. The skin felt identical to his. And… and the freckles, they were there, each and every one. The eyes, too! Her voice was the same as his, too, as though he were the one actually speaking. He reached up, rubbing a lock of the green hair between his fingers. The texture, the color, it was all identical! It was…

It was amazing.

"... You can shapeshift." He said it so softly, as though is was simply one of his thoughts slipping past his lips.

"Uh-huh!" Himiko grinned, completely unconcerned by his poking and prodding. "I just need a little bit of blood, and then, ta-da!"

The real Izuku leaned forwards, forgetting what personal space was as the analytical part of his brain took over. This was perfect mimicry. It was impossible to distinguish the two. The gears in his mind roared into overdrive, compiling both potential uses and questions. She needed blood to shapeshift; did it work with anything other than blood? If so, it was likely related to the genetic material, meaning that she could transform into someone with as little as a hair or nail trimming. And was it impacted by the amount consumed? How long was she able to use it? Was there a limit, both to how long she could use it contiguously, and to how long she could use a specific person's genetic code? And what about quirks? Things like mutation quirks, she obviously had to replicate, but what about transformation or emitter quirks? If she could replicate them, that would make her not only a perfect doppelganger, but also a jack of all trades in both combat or emergency situations, able to both copy a villain's quirk, and double the power of any ally's quirk!

Himiko's signature giggle sounded so strange in Izuku's voice, strange enough to actually pulling him out of his mumbling rabbit hole. He glanced up, a question carried in his gaze. "W-what is it?"

She smiled, and despite it being his own face, Izuku could clearly see it was Himiko. "I love your muttering, Izu-kun. Did you know you're the first one to like my quirk in a really long time?"

"What?" Izuku cocked his head, genuinely confused. "How? It's fascinating!"

She snickered, thoroughly entertained by him. "And that's why you're perfect!"

"Huh..?" What she even trying to answer his questions? He glanced at his mom, the faux Izuku clinging to him, before suddenly realizing something. "... Toga, is that my school uniform?"

Her smile grew, becoming far too wide to be innocent. "I can't shapeshift clothes, can I?"

"Where did you get my clothes!?"

"Your dresser, of course!"

"T-t-take them off!"

"Here?"

"No! Not here! In, uh, in my room, or something!"

"Aw, but they're so comfy!"

Their bickering was interrupted by his mom's laugh. Both of them froze, turning to see the short woman laughing herself to tears. A truly joyful laugh, one full of motherly love.

Himiko cocked her head, quirking an eyebrow. "What is it, Mrs. Midoriya?"

The woman stopped her laughing, wheezing as she tried to recover her lost breath. And after a moment, she looked at the faux Izuku, a wholehearted smile on her face. "Toga-chan, do you need a home?"

Time seemed to stop. The entire house became quiet, the two teens coming to grasp exactly what the woman had said. And Himiko stared at her, almost as though she were trapped in a dream.

"... W-with you?" The girl stuttered, so unlike her, yet so fitting for the nervous boy she was impersonating.

Mom spread her arms wide, a hug waiting to be filled. "That's what I'm offering."

Himiko seemed unable to move, frozen where she was. "Really?"

The older woman nodded."Yes."

At first, it was small. And then it grew larger. And layers of gray melted away, revealing Himiko's true face. A huge smile, so filled with happiness and joy, spread across the girl's face, one that Izuku had never seen before. And, with fat tears rolling down her cheeks, she leapt into the arms of her new mom.

"Yes! Yes, I'd love it!"

They had done it.

Not according to plan.

But now, Himiko had a family.

**A/N: G'evenin, everyone! Does this chapter have the recommended dose of tears? Full disclosure, the part with Himiko turning into Izuku has been in my head since day one, and to finally see it on paper feels amazing. This chapter is a tad bit shorter than usual, and I apologize for that! However, it's an important scene, for rather obvious reasons. Alongside that, chapters 11-13 were originally supposed to be one chapter but… well, I got pretty into writing the fine details, so here we are. Just as clarification, the book Izuku was reading was "The Prince," by Niccolo Machiavelli. Chapter 6 is a short chapter, but widely considered an important one, because it begins to break down and analyze where a prince acquires their power from, and how that defines the steps they must take to create a stable power base. **

**With only the worst of intentions, **

**Imp the Nefarious**

**FFN:**

**AnAsianToster: I'll definitely keep in mind your recommendations about the Augur; while I have no intentions of going back and retconning chapters, I still have more character introducitons down the line, and need to learn from my mistakes. More than anything, though, I'm glad that you appreciate the pacing. I love myself some slowburn, but I know a lot of people don't. My highest priority, more than anything else, is to make this emotionally believable. I want every step Izuku or Himiko takes to be one that not only makes sense, but the reader can truly understand, even on an emotional level. Hopefully that'll work. We'll see in a few chapters.**

**ArchAngelSintic: First of all, thank you for pointing out the dischord issue so quickly! That could've ended very poorly. And it's amazing to hear that you've binged this so quickly! Just make sure to get enough sleep, I don't want my reader's sleep schedules to become as thoroughly fucked up as my own. If I don't update on time, it should be up in a day or two; If I know beforehand, I'll make sure to announce it in the Discord. **

**ILiekFishes: You fool, you've fallen into my trap! You see, my actual goal is to convince everyone that murder and paraphilia are 100% okay, so long as you're a cute teenage girl with a sad backstory. I'm going to use perspective, metaphors, and human empathy to make you realize that she might be a murderer, but that's not as important as her personal demons!**

… **Wait, that's exactly what I'm doing.**

_**OH NO**_

**ListenToTheRain: I'll try! Damn, ya gotta love character development, like, seeing a character change and improve, it's just-! *insert happy reader sounds here* Now, this ain't exactly related to my work on CATLT, but one of my favorite character arc of all time is Zuko from ATLA. I'd personally consider it a masterclass in how to write internally-driven character development. While Zuko didn't choose the situation he was in, every choice he made was just that: his choice. The successes, the failures, achieving exactly what he wanted just to find it left him hollow and sad - character development like that just feel so satisfying, but also because it feels natural and, most importantly, **_**earned**_**. That's what I'm hoping to achieve here with Izuku, Toga, and a as-yet-unnamed third character: Zuko-levels of character development. Aim for the moon, so at least I'll learn how to fly, right?**

**Ulttoanova: I have been trying to build up a few layers on Toga, and to hear that you like it is good! I'm always worried that I'm breaking Toga as a character, and, at least how I see it, is that she's very much a one-note character in what's know about her prior to the recent manga, maybe two or three notes max. And right now, I'm trying to use her to compose a symphony. So I either make a symphony with three notes, or make Toga play notes she's not used to playing. It's a bit of a catch 22, but I'm doin' what I can. And yes, there are going to be multiple arcs; this is number one, and I already have most of the others fleshed out. Mostly, it's just a matter of banging them out and editing. Ya know, the part that matters.**


	14. Chapter 14

"_And these are white blood cells! They're job is to destroy foreign objects in the body, like germs! And, just like red blood cells, they come from…" Himiko paused for a moment, struggling to remember the word as she flipped through the bright and colorful pages of her picture book. What was that word..? She distinctly remembered looking it up in the dictionary, because she had never seen it before… Oh, that's it! "Hematopoietic stem cells!" She smiled, proud of herself as she showed the book to her teacher._

_Mrs. Kondo chuckled, sitting behind her desk and smiling at the little girl in front of her. "That's an impressive word. Who taught it to you?"_

_Himiko's smile only spread wider, her chest filling with pride. "I learned it all by myself!"_

_The brown-haired teacher raised an eyebrow, impressed. "So, Toga, what do you want to be when you grow up?"_

"_A doctor!" Himiko answered immediately, spouting out an energetic answer without needing to think. "I wanna help people get better, just like my Papa!"_

"_That's a great goal!" The teacher began gathering up her things, and pushed herself up from her desk. "But it's really hard. It takes a lot of studying."_

_Himiko nodded, but her excited grin didn't waver. "I know! But I love learning! I wanna spend my whole life learning!"_

_The teacher laughed, a warm and soft sound that could only be described as motherly. "That's a great mindset! Hey, come with me to the library for a moment." She began towards the classroom door, gesturing for Himiko to follow._

"_Ok! Coming!" Slapping the book shut, Himiko slung her purple backpack over her shoulder, and rushed to join her teacher walking down the hallway. The two walked in comfortable silence, Mrs. Kondo leafing through her papers and Himiko humming to some silent tune. _

_Himiko loved Mrs. Kondo. She was so nice and friendly, always so encouraging. Tall, with long dark hair and welcoming chocolate eyes, She was quieter than all of the other teachers. Soft spoken and rarely the first to speak, it amazed Himiko how the woman was somehow always in control of the situation, a firm but gentle hand guiding the chaotic storm that was a class of third graders. And she was the science teacher, too! She seemed to know everything, no matter what Himiko asked! It was amazing!_

"_Here we are." Pushing open the door to the school library, Mrs. Kondo didn't bother looking towards the bookshelves, instead turning towards the storage rooms and offices at the back. Himiko glanced back at the bookshelves, and then forward at her teacher, confused. But she quickly shrugged off her uncertainty, her curiosity driving her forward._

_The storage room was filled with shelves upon shelves of books, textbooks and reference books alike. And, without saying a word, Mrs. Kondo began to traverse the aisles, freely plucking books off of the shelf with little regard for the growing stack already in her arms. And, as the teacher choice dozens of books off the shelf, each one looked over and judged by some unknown metric, Himiko simply stood by the desk beside the door, a small monkey who's curiosity was only just tempered by it's puzzlement._

_Finally, after several minutes of silence, Mrs. Kondo returned to her student, setting the stack of books on the desk. Himiko watched her, unsure of what to do, but the woman simply gestured at the pile. "I thought you might like them. They're a bit more advanced than what's in the library."_

_Glancing between the teacher and the books, Himiko picked one up, and looked it over. It was large and heavy, bound in brown leather and weathered by age. It looked less like the books she had read before, and more like it belonged in a wizard's study. The half dozen other books underneath it looked the same, the tombs of great wizards._

'_Basics of the Human Body Systems, By K. Satou'_

_Flipping the book open, she ran her fingers over the old paper as she began reading, a huge smile spreading across her face. She glanced up at Mrs. Kondo, just to find her smiling, pleased. _

"_I can't give these to you, but," the woman patted Himiko's shoulder, "just know, you can come to the library and read them whenever you want."_

"_Really?" Himiko stared at her teacher in disbelief, clutching the book to her chest._

"_Mm-hm!" Stepping past Himiko, the woman reached into the office, and drew out a large, white coat. "You can even wear my old lab coat while you read."_

_It was a lab coat._

_Mrs. Kondo's lab coat!_

_An actual scientist's lab coat!_

_Himiko beamed, rushing over and snatched the lab coat out of the woman's hands with boundless excitement. Swinging it around her, the coat was too large for her in every way. The sleeves were far too long, and the long coat bunched up around her feet, making a small pile of cloth on the floor. And, casting a glance at her self, Himiko smiled, bright and happy. "I feel just like a scientist! Do I look cute?"_

_Mrs. Kondo let out a soft chuckle, and ruffled her hair,. "Of course you look cute. And, you don't just look like a scientist; you're on your way to becoming one."_

"_Yay!" Himiko cheered at the praise, and wrapped her arms around the teacher, snuggling into her belly. "Thank you, Mrs. Kondo!"_

_The woman hesitated, but then hugged Himiko back, careful not to squeeze too tight. "You're welcome, Toga. Now, you should probably be headed out, shouldn't you? You aunt is probably waiting for you."_

_Instantly, Himiko's stomach dropped._

_Aunt Iku._

_And… and it was friday._

_There was a very specific reason she didn't want to leave after class, and it wasn't just to talk to Mrs. Kondo._

"_... Can I stay with you for just a bit longer?"_

_The teacher smiled sadly, running her fingers through Himiko's hair. "I'm sorry, but I have work to do. But I can read with you on monday, if you'd like."_

… _That wasn't why Himiko wanted to stay._

_But… But she couldn't avoid Aunt Iku forever._

_She couldn't avoid the doctors forever._

_She bit her lip, but reluctantly pulled out of the teacher's embrace._

"_... O-okay. Bye, Mrs. Kondo. See you on monday."_

_If the doctors didn't decide to keep her longer._

)ooOoo(

The silence of early morning was broken.

Not by the light twittering of birdsong, nor engines rumbling. It was far too early for either of those, the sun still having at least another hour before it rose.

No, the morning silence was instead broken by a radio clicking on.

"Good morning, everyone, this is Kobayashi Takashi, your morning host for NHK-FM Shizuoka!" The man's voice dripped with confidence and positivity, a tone of voice Izuku would often attempt in the shower when no one could hear him. "Thank you for tuning into today's five-thirty broadcast, where we'll tell you everything you need to know about the news, the weather, and the markets! Today's forecast is nice and cool, with clear skies and a high of twelve degrees."

Izuku groaned, listening to the host's voice but not understanding a word coming out of the radio alarm clock. He was talking about… the stock market, or something. He tried to pluck out individual words, but his brain was slow and sluggish as though every conscious thought had to wade through layers of black, swampy exhaustion. His limbs felt like lead and his eyes might as well have been plastered shut. Every part of him moaned that it was too early, that he hadn't slept enough. But he couldn't accept that.

He had stayed up late, but that was no excuse. School still started at eight, and he still had a workout. Heroes didn't help people by doing what was 'required,' they helped by going beyond. U.A.'s modo was 'Plus Ultra,' for All Might's sake!

So he was going to get up on the count of three.

One…

Two…

Three!

Nothing moved.

… Three!

Once again, nothing moved. He was a stone statue, snuggled into a nest of blankets to hide from the icy cold. Izuku sighed, wrapping the blankets tighter around him. He just wanted to…

… Maybe just for a bit longer…

His breathing began to slow, his entire body thanking him as he slipped back into unconsciousness' warm, dark embrace.

It felt…

… Good…

… Nice...

… And comfortable…

… And…

… And get up!

Izuku grasped, his eyes flicking open as he dragged himself to consciousness.

Remember why!

He wants to help people!

And to help people, he needs to be a hero!

And to be a hero, he needs to get into U.A.!

So get your butt in gear, deku!

He threw the blanket off of him in one fell swoop, and practically rolled off the bed. His bare feet slapped against the frozen wooden floor, and his entire body functioned off of muscle memory, fumbling to find every object he needed without needing any more light than that provided by his alarm clock.

Sweatpants… ankle socks… long sleeved shirt… He slipped them on as quickly as he could, already shivering in the frigid winter air. His teeth chattered, and he grabbed his scarf off of the door hook, wrapping it around his neck. He understood why mom did it, but… would it really be that bad to turn on the heater at night? Yes, electricity was expensive, but if this was how could he felt, he couldn't even imagine what it was like for Himiko. He grabbed his phone and earbuds, stepping out of his room and slipping down the hallway as quietly as he could.

As soon as he reached the kitchen, he flicked the lights on, and set about his breakfast. Plug in the rice cooker, flick on the stove. Put the pan on high, and the soup pot on low. Crack a few eggs and cook them along with the ham. Such a regular routine, Izuku could probably do it with his eyes shut.

… Not that he should try. He chuckled to himself. That would probably only end with a set of burnt eggs and a blaring smoke detector.

A weak sigh tugged at Izuku's lips as he set about his work, just the small, weary sort. They were always having issues like that, with money. And Dad wasn't really helping. Technically, he was, but… well, a hundred thousand yen a month was only so much. It covered maybe half of their rent? Just over, probably. Really, that's even more reason to aim for U.A.; when he starts high school, he'll have tuition to pay, and that will mean tightening the belts even more. But U.A. offered grants to all of the students enrolled in the hero course, and that would mean so much to his mom. More than anything, though, Izuku just wanted to see his dad again.

… 'Again' was a strong word. Izuku couldn't even remember the man's face. If he _really _tried… No, he had nothing. Izuku scowled, an egg sizzling as he flipped it over. He was in central China, and had been for years. And a lot of his salary had to go to his end, renting his own house and such. At least, that's what Dad had told Mom.

Izuku had never spoken with him.

The green-haired boy shook his head, and scooped the food onto his plate. He set it on the table, along with a bowl of rice and a set of chopsticks. Giving the soup one last lookover, he sat down at the table, and quietly scooted in his chair, careful not to make much noise.

"Thank you for the food." Whispering to no one in particular, he silently clapped his hands together, and began to eat. He set his phone on the table, and switched on one of his podcasts, careful to keep the volume low.

"Heya, heya, everybody! This is Shichiro-"

"And Asako!"

"- And we're happy to welcome you back to our weekly podcast, '_Hero Code_,' the show where we discuss and explain hero law, both the basics for aspiring heroes, and new developments for all you veterans out there! Today, we're very lucky to have the rising star, Mount Lady herself, to help us discuss the issue of property damage, and how you can deal with it as a hero!"

Izuku quirked an eyebrow at the irony of their choice of guest, but supposed it made sense. A lot of the content for the show was how to work _around _the laws, rather than how to follow and work with them. And, in that regard, Mount Lady would probably be quite knowledgeable. Since Izuku had started keeping track a few months ago, the pro hero had managed to dodge… Two? No, _three _separate property damage cases. Izuku scowled, and shook his head. The entire culture surrounding heroes, it was such a mess. But, if he wanted to fix it, he had to know the system inside and out. So, as he ate, he listened closely, mentally taking notes on the legal loopholes that needed to be sewn shut.

The city woke as the sun rose, a rising symphony that very few got to enjoy from the beginning. And Izuku got to watch through the window as he ate, with dark blues giving way to the cool purples and soft pinks of sunrise. It was such an odd time of day, where he felt so totally alone, but not in a bad way. He wasn't stranded alone on the island that was his mind, but rather, was like a monk alone in his temple, completely in balance as he went about his tasks.

Well, he might've been, if not for one thing.

Only a few paces away, there was a particular blonde. Curled up on the sofa, she was so tightly wrapped in her comforter that she looked like a cloth cocoon with a blond wig. Even in the dark, it was an amusing sight. But that wasn't what was distracting.

No, the distracting part was that she snored like a seventy-year-old man.

Despite himself, Izuku chuckled warmly as he looked at her. Even when she was asleep, she was loud. Not to mention, she looked like a messy ball of knotty blond fluff. He knew it wasn't cute, not in the conventional, 'pretty and pink' way. But it was adorable in the same, unorthodox way the girl always was. In fact, if she had looked any other way while sleeping, it actually would've felt wrong. For just a moment, he just sat there watching, a soft smile on his face.

There was a long, tired groan and the pile of covers shifted. A set arms poked out, stretching as the girl yawned and sat up, pushing the covers off of her chest.

"Good morning!" Izuku tapped his phone, a comfortable smile on his face as he paused the podcast. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mm-hm!" Himiko took in a deep breath, and rolled the stiffness out of her shoulders. Her hair was undone, falling down to her shoulders in a few knotted strands, and she had one of Mom's old T-shirts thrown on her as a set of pajamas. "What about you, Izu-kuuun?"

"Ah, w-well," Izuku's smile became quite forced, his eyes drifting towards the floor. "I stayed up a little late."

Himiko giggled, giving her companion a knowing smile. "Whatcha reading about this time?" Pushing herself up, she slipped on a pair of slippers and cheerfully began folding her covers, a morning ritual she had developed over the past few weeks.

"Oh, the, uh, the American Civil Rights Movement." Izuku fumbled for a moment, trying both to remember what he was reading, and pick up one of the eggs on his plate.

Plopping down across from Izuku, the blonde rested her chin on one hand and cocked her head, a curious smile spreading across her face. "Ooh, that sounds interesting! What was it?"

"Uh, well…" Izuku clicked his chopsticks together, his eyes focused intensely on his rice as the gears in his mind began to spin. There was a lot of content to explain, and almost none of it was common knowledge; after all, this had happened decades before even quirks were discovered. He was more or less confined to the _very _basics, the most important details. So where did he start? He mulled it over for a moment, too busy organizing the thoughts inside his head to look up. "So, up until about two hundred years ago, the United States used to have a system in some of its states a lot like apartheid, held together by what were called Jim Crow laws. So for example, there were some places only allowed people of one race, like restaurants and schools, while some laws made it illegal for people of different races to get married. It took a lot to change."

"That sounds just…" Himiko's curious smile fell, her gaze laced with concern. "... Awful."

"Huh?" Izuku's green gaze darted up, confused. What did she mean, awful? Of course it changed, it would've been awful if it hadn't- wait, she meant the system was awful! Understanding dawned in his eyes, and he smiled sheepishly. "Oh, um… Y-yeah, it was. But anyways, the really interesting part was how it was changed! It was changed, and lot of it peacefully! There were violent groups, like the Black Panthers, but there were also movements that reformed the system by using methods like civil disobedience and boycotts. For example, there was a man named Martin Luther King Jr., and in 1963, he wrote this fascinating essay, despite being in jail at the time! It talked about the moral duty to disobey unjust laws, which was fascinating! This was in direct contrast to the writings of Malcolm X in his autobiography."

"Malcolm X?" Himiko watched closely, and Izuku could see the sharp edge of her cold, scientific curiosity. "Who was that?"

Izuku caught himself, stilted by the interruption. But then, his smile spread even wider, like he had just remembered a very important and exciting detail. "Oh, he was the spokesman for the Nation of Islam, and a prominent leader of the Civil Rights movement in general! Many people use him as a foil of comparison for Martin Luther King Jr., but really, I find him far more interesting to study as a unique person, completely separate from King. For example…" He continued to explain, discussing smaller and smaller details as he veered off to describe the intricacies of increasingly tangential events and people, from the social programs run by the Black Panthers to the similarities between Martin Luther King and Nelson Mandela. The information poured out of him, an endless waterfall of fascinating people and stories, no different than the times he spent hours telling Mom about All Might. And all the while, Himiko listened intently, poking and prodding for details with the boundless curiosity of a child. He would explain something, and she would ask another question, drawing him yet further from his original topic.

Izuku was rambling. He was rambling, and he knew it. And whenever he did that, most people would tune out, or tell him they had to do something, and try and escape. He would always be left halfway through his explanation, dozens of words and ideas he wanted to share left unspoken. He would be left alone, with too many thoughts in his head, and no one interested enough to share them with. He was a dusty old book, full of stories no one wanted to read.

But Himiko had decided to open that book, reading page after page with the same level of curiosity and enthusiasm. And, for Izuku…

Well, it was everything. He smiled as he talked, his chest warm and light as he continued to explain every minute thing that came to mind, organized in such a chaotic way that only him and perhaps the blonde across the table could make any sense of it.

"... But that was completely unrelated to what I was reading about last night; instead, I was reading about the Greyhound Boycott, and the Freedom Riders that I was talking about earlier! So…" He paused for a moment, catching his breath as he tried to find any other thread of ideas to explain. But, much to his satisfaction, he came up empty handed. "... Yeah, that's what I was reading about last night."

Himiko rubbed her chin, an intrigued smile on her face as she thought. He could see the questions in her eyes, the insatiable curiosity that wanted to engorge itself on every detail. She opened her mouth to speak, but then paused, reconsidering. After just a brief moment, she giggled, and Izuku could see the teasing gleam in her sunflower-yellow eyes. "... So, Izu-kun, when did you get to bed?"

Izuku's smile dropped, quickly replaced by a bright red blush. He ducked his head, and fiddled listlessly with his chopsticks, avoiding her prying eyes. Taking a deep breath, his voice was barely more than a whisper, as though he was hoping she wouldn't hear.

"... O-one…"

Please don't make a big deal!

Please let this slip one time!

He knew he needed to get his rest, but sometimes he couldn't resist!

There were a few tense beats of silence, and Izuku tried pointlessly to swallow his embarrassment. But Himiko just laughed, ruffling his hair as she stood up from the table. "Be careful, or else, you're gonna burn out! And we can't let that happen, can we? Is breakfast ready?" She stepped past him, casually wandering into the kitchen.

Oh, thank All Might, she changed the topic! Izuku let out a tense breath, and nodded. "Y-yeah, and you can make yourself eggs, too."

"Okay!" The girl rummaged through the fridge, grabbing everything she needed before starting her breakfast. For a moment, she paused, as though something was very wrong.

"Uh… T-Toga, what is it?" Deep concern leaked into Izuku's voice, and he leaned forward, trying to see what the girl was staring at.

"... Izu-kun…" She chewed on her lip, a heavy aura falling over her like a black veil. "We're out of cheese for my omelet."

"Huh?" Izuku frowned, and pointed to the counter beside the stove. "No, it's right there."

Himiko's head whipped around, searching for her prey, and she caught sight of the bag of shredded cheese. "_You_!"

Both of them were silent, an odd pressure filling the air, as she stared with malice, as though the dairy had betrayed her.

And then, she cracked, bursting into laughter. Izuku tried to resist, but soon, he joined her, the two of them simply enjoying the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

Soon, the two settled down, continuing on. Himiko made her omelet, a spring in her step, while Izuku picked at his breakfast, a relaxed smile on his face.

He had been so worried before, it seemed silly now. Whenever he had thought about it, his face would light up pink, and a myriad of embarrassing situations would fill his mind. But now, with their daily routine established, he couldn't help but feel happy. Himiko was part of his life now, no matter what happened.

Now, he just had to get into U.A.

Suddenly, a thought caught his attention, and Izuku glanced over to his companion. "You and Mom are going to the school today, right?"

"Hm?" Carefully, the girl extracted the omelet from the pan, placing it on her plate and rolling it up. She pressed down on it once, just making certain that it wouldn't try and escape. But immediately after it was deemed safe, her head shot up, her smile filled to the brim with excitement. "Oh yeah, just to grab the paperwork to register me! I'll finally get to go back to school! I'm really excited to meet my new classmates!"

She joined him at the table, and Izuku handed her a set of chopsticks. He scratched as his neck, a sheepish laugh escaping his lips. "Right as we're about to go to high school, too. Do you think you're ready for the application test?"

She blew on her omelet, licking her lips in childish anticipation as she cut it open. Popping a chunk into her mouth, she took a moment to chew, curling her bang around one finger as she thought. "... Well, I tried the high school's practice test last night, and I got ninety-eight on the science portion!"

Ninety-eight per-!

Izuku practically spat out his food, choking on a mouthful of rice. He slammed down the bowl, not even catching his breath. "That's amazing! And without studying at all?"

Himiko nodded happily. "Uh-huh!"

"Did you look over my textbook before hand?"

"Nope!"

"Use the internet?"

"Not at all!'

"... Can you help me study?"

Himiko giggled, undoubtedly amused by Izuku's reaction and quite pleased with herself. And she deserved it! A sixty was enough to pass, and Izuku struggled to hit eighty, even as a good student. Admittedly, he wasn't amazing as many others, but he was in the top twenty in his class as of last semester's finals.

Himiko was amazing. There was no other word for it. Or, at least no other word that could say it all at once. She could probably go to one of the better science magnet schools, or get into-!

Izuku's thoughts screeched to a halt.

"... But, are you really wanting to go to Musutafu Senior High?" He frowned, his voice low and timid.

Himiko cocked her head, taking another bite of her breakfast. "Are there other high schools around here?"

Izuku shifted in his seat, trying to formulate his words into a recommendation. "W-what I mean is, you should aim for U.A."

Himiko furrowed her eyebrows, as though he had just asked her to go wash her socks in a nearby river. Harmless, but also pointless. "Why?"

"You could definitely get into the support course, and probably the hero course if you wanted!" The words tumbled out of his mouth, an unorganized mess of sound. How do you explain to a bird they should try and fly? It always came to them so naturally, the idea of them not understanding seemed impossible to even imagine, let alone explain. Some people were practically born to be heroes, and Himiko was one of them! "You could be an amazing hero! Your quirk is powerful, and even without it, you're extremely skilled! I mean, even without a physical quirk, you're super fast and agile! You'd make a far better hero than me, and…"

Himiko's smile had fallen, becoming a soft shadow of her cheerful grin, and Izuku's words petered out. He had rushed in with too much energy, and quickly burned out, left with a sense of awkward regret. She spun her chopsticks in her hand, just like how she did with her knife, and her eyes followed his.

Pale yellow, like the dead leaves of autumn.

Slitted, and thin as a stiletto knife's blade.

Fundamentally different from his.

Finally, Himiko spoke up. "... Izu-kun, I don't want to be a hero."

Izuku silently nodded, his throat tight.

"I've told you, I don't like heroes."

He nodded again, refusing to meet her eyes.

Izuku knew. He had known for months. She had told him that day, as they sat together in his room. But…

But he knew she could be one. She could be one of the best. And, in some small crevice at the back of his mind, he had already constructed a dream.

Toga Himiko and Midoriya Izuku. The shapeshifter, and her dependable partner. Top heroes, changing the very definition of what it meant to save people.

… It was just a dream. A fantasy. But, he had thought… he had thought, maybe it could come true.

He was wrong, though. If she didn't want to be a hero, then that was that. There was nothing else to say.

Izuku fiddled with his fingers, his mind uncomfortably still. Only one question lingered, so he tossed it out, hoping to fill the silence.

"... What do you want to be?"

Himiko rested her hand in her palm, taking a moment to think. Then she smiled, just like she always did. "A health science researcher."

"Really?" Izuku gave her a questioning look, popping the last of his egg in his mouth. Of all the things he had expected to hear, that wasn't it. He had been expecting… Well, now that he thought about it, he honestly had no idea. At the thought, guilt tugged at his heart. He had never even asked, had he?

"Is that weird?" Himiko pouted, far too dramatic to be serious, before giggling.

"N-no, not really!" Izuku sputtered out his denial, but quickly caught himself. "Just… surprising. Why do you want to be a researcher?"

"Hm…" She shifted her head to one side, and then the other, chewing as she came to her conclusion. "Well, probably because of my dad."

"You dad?"

"Uh-huh!" Her smile bloomed even larger at the mention of her dad, not unlike the smile she had when Mom had first broken the news to her. Big, and warm, and happy. "He was a nurse, and had all these books about biology in our apartment. They were too hard for me, since they were mostly his old textbooks, but sometimes, if I asked, he'd read them to me! Oh, and when I was really little, he had gotten me this kids' book on the human body, with cartoony pictures of all the cell types. It wasn't particularly accurate, but I loved reading it!"

"Huh…" Izuku listened closely, careful to archive the information within his mind. Hearing Himiko talk about her family… It was so odd, just because she rarely mentioned them at all, let alone in any detail. In many ways, the girl was still a mystery to him; he was a detective who had only discovered a few sparse pieces of the puzzle, and had yet to even figure out how to fit them together. He had so much to learn about the girl, but the more he learned about her…

Well, the more he came to love her.

Despite the hot blush on his face, he smiled, a soft and warm gesture. "I'm sure you can do it."

"Thank you Izu-kun! Let's both try our best!" Himiko grinned, and gave him a big thumbs up. But then she opened her mouth, as though she had just remembered something. "Oh, can I go with you today?"

"Go with me?" Izuku cocked his head.

Himiko nodded, beaming with energy. "Yeah, on your jog!"

"Really?"

"Yep! I thought it might be fun!"

Her joining him on the jog? He hadn't even considered it, but… he didn't mind the idea one bit. Maybe she'd never be a hero, but to be with her…

Well, in some ways, that was probably enough.

"Sure!"

"Yay! Can I borrow your jogging pants?"

"W-what?! N-no, I'm, uh… I'm pretty sure they won't fit..?"

"Well, I can solve that! Come here!"

"Huh? What do you me- W-woah, Toga, what are you doing?!"

"Don't worry, it won't hurt too much! It's only a little bite!"

**A/N: G'afternoon, everyone! This chapter is a bit shorter than usual, sorry about that! Hopefully getting it out a day early makes up for that. Just a bit of domestic life, the quiet before the storm. **

**With only the worst of intentions,**

**Imp the Nefarious**

**AO3:**

**Thespectaculareight: The wording gives it a dark poetry vibe, eh? **

… **Well, apparently my normal methods of speech make me sound like I'm reciting dark poetry. I'm not sure how to feel about this.**

**FFN: **

**LordGhostStriker: Shoe drop? What? No, I would never do that! Everything is going to turn out 100% ok for every character, and they're definitely going to live happily ever after! *cackles maniacally***

**Thor94: Thank you, I'm glad that you're enjoying this. However, I do have some bad news in regards to your other request. I do not plan on having any smut scenes within this fic. Does that mean no sex scenes? No, I'm not going to say that. But any sex scene that I do have is undoubtedly going to be presented in a far more "emotional" than "sexual" manner. This is mostly because 1. I have no faith in my ability to write smut, 2. I don't want that to be the focus of the story. If you're wanting a fic like that, that's perfectly fine, but you're unlikely to find it here. There are already quite a few like that, or, should you want to, write one on you're own. Feel free to even use CATLT as a template, should you desire! I apologize if this comes as a disappointment to you, but I feel that, as an author, I should be upfront about that.**


	15. Chapter 15

_ Dread settled in Himiko's stomach like a stone twice her size._

"_Where have you been?" The moment the blonde stepped into the parking lot, Aunt Iku glared at her, her hands on her hips. The woman simply stood there, stance firm and business suit crisp as she waited for her niece to reach the car. Himiko glanced up, but quickly looked away, her head ducked as she held her backpack to her chest, protecting the contents within. She walked quickly, but not the happy sort of skip she would have during class; no, instead, it was a nervous scurry, a squirrel approaching a cat to avoid the consequences of running away._

_Standing in front of the car, Aunt Iku looked a lot to Papa; tall and thin, with dark hair and yellow, slitted eyes. But, despite those similarities, the two couldn't look more different._

_Papa was a happy person, the sort that looked most natural with a soft spoken smile and a kind warmth in his eyes. His hair was the color of freshly baked bread, and his eyes the color of sunrise in late spring. He always wore his Kobe University baseball cap, and loved taking her to the park. And, whenever he had a day off from work, he'd always make sure to tuck her in to bed and read to her._

_But Aunt Iku…_

_She was nothing like Papa. Not in her smile, not in her eyes. Not her straight, short hair, or her analytically applied makeup. She never wore baseball caps, never went to parks._

_Never read to Himiko._

"_Oh, well, uh…" Himiko sputtered out an answer, her anxious gaze refusing to leave her toes. "I was just with Mrs. Kondo. She was explaining some stuff to me."_

_That was a terrible excuse. Himiko knew it was a terrible excuse. But it was better than no excuse, because the alternative was telling the truth. And Aunt Iku wouldn't want to hear the truth._

_The older woman simply stared at the girl, her narrow, lipstick-coated lips locked in a tight scowl, and Himiko shrunk under the weight._

_There were a few moments of stiff silence, but finally, Aunt Iku just sighed, most of the tension leaving her body. Most, but not all; Aunt Iku was always tense, always worried about something. And Himiko only ever caused more problems, like a fish living in a zoo. Aunt Iku never knew what to do with her, never understood what Himiko meant. But that was Himiko's own fault. _

"_... Look, Himiko, I know that you love asking questions, and that's great." She patted Himiko on the shoulder, but it was cold and distant, just a motion, without a drop of understanding or sympathy. "But we're in a bit of a hurry right now."_

_Of course they were in a hurry. Aunt Iku was always in a hurry, always had something to do. But what they were rushing towards, Himiko didn't want to get to. It was scary. It hurt. It-_

… _It wasn't something Aunt Iku understood, no matter how much Himiko tried to tell her._

_Himiko nodded, swallowing the fat knot of words that was stuck in the back of her throat. "I know…"_

_The woman jerked her head towards the car and plucked her keys out of her pocket, spinning them on her finger. "Well, come on then. I brought a set of clothes for you, it's in the back."_

_Himiko bit her lip, her sharp canines digging into the flesh, but hopped into the car. "... O-ok." _

_The car hummed to life, and Himiko sunk into the seat, buckling herself. She… well, she didn't particularly like Aunt Iku's car. The seats were too soft, like big leather pillows, but instead of being the sort she would snuggle into or have a pillow fight with, she would simply sink too far into them. And the car was far too clean, both in how it looked and sounded. It didn't rumble like Mama's SUV, but instead buzzed like one of Himiko's remote control cars. And the inside was perfectly organized, perfectly sterilized._

_It was suffocating._

"_Okay, let's see here…" Aunt Iku wove through the city's dense rush hour traffic, her knuckles white on the steering wheel as she muttered under her breath. "First, I need to drop her off, and then I need to go to the dry cleaners, and then I need to pack…" She rapted her fingers, and then clicked her tongue. "Dammit, I forgot to do the laundry yesterday!"_

"_... I could help, if you want… T-take care of the house, and... stuff." Painting a smile onto her face Himiko spoke up. A ragged puppy trying to attract an owner before the pound had to put her down._

_She knew what Aunt Iku was going to say, even before the woman looked at her in the rearview mirror. It was a long shot. No, it was more than that, because a long shot sounded possible. It was like trying to throw her pencil over the school building, and somehow circle the right answer on a test. But… _

_Himiko fiddled with her hair, hesitantly tugging at her blond bangs._

_But she didn't want to. If there was even a small chance that she could avoid it, she would jump at it like a hungry cat._

_Aunt Iku scowled. "Himiko, you have counseling this weekend, and I have a meeting out of town." Her words were simple and firm, like they were set in stone. And to try and convince her otherwise would be like arguing with one. But Himiko didn't want to fight anymore, because she was bound to lose. After two years, there wasn't a drop of fight left in her._

_Himiko forced a weak smile onto her face, held together by desperate optimism. "But I don't really have to go, right?" _

_Aunt Iku shook her head, muttering something to herself as she switched lanes. She did that a lot. She probably thought Himiko couldn't hear, or maybe she just didn't care. And, in some ways, Himiko wished she didn't hear it. She knew she was a freak. That didn't mean she wanted to hear Aunt Iku whisper about it._

_Finally, after a long silence, Aunt Iku responded. "Himiko, I understand that you don't like it, but in the end…" She took a moment to consider her words, flipping on her turn signal. "... Well, in the end, this is going to help you get better."_

_Get better._

_Like she was sick._

… _Well, she was sick._

_She was sick, just like Mama had been. And just like Mama, she had been sick from birth._

"_... But counseling won't help anyways, right?" Himiko let out a sad laugh, the small sort that held not even a bit of genuine happiness. It sounded like an old, broken record player mumbling out the happy birthday song to a dark, dusty cafe, long since abandoned by anyone that cared. "I mean, you told me that only a monster would have a quirk like mine or Mama's. And the doctors can't change that."_

_Before she had moved in with Aunt Iku, she had never laughed like that. But whenever she talked with the woman, it seemed to be the only way she could react. The only way she could cope. Because, no matter what she did, it was a lost battle._

_But she didn't want to stop smiling. She didn't want to lose that little spark, the piece of her soul that felt warm and fuzzy. When she felt happy, she couldn't help but smile. So, maybe if she smiled enough, she could feel happy._

"_You know that's not what I meant. It's just…" Aunt Iku sighed, and Himiko caught just the barest amount of empathy in the back of her cold eyes. "Well, Fuyuko should've done a better job raising you. And now, I just want to make sure you get the help you need."_

_Fuyuko. That's what she called Mama, and Himiko hated it. She didn't like hating things, but she truly hated it. Not Mama's name, but the way Aunt Iku said it. She spat it out, as though even the woman's name was enough to disgust her, as though it were poison._

_Well, Mama wasn't. Himiko's smile shrunk a bit, losing some of the meager spark it had to begin with as she listlessly watched cars pass. Mama loved Himiko, just like Papa had, no matter what Aunt Iku thought. She was just as much Mama's child as Papa's. Her blond hair, her sharp teeth, the way she could roll her tongue, all things Aunt Iku didn't have the slightest trace of. Even her quirk was from both of her parents._

_And no matter what the doctors did, they couldn't change her DNA._

_They couldn't fix her._

"_Ok, and… here we are." The car pulled off into a parking lot, just in front of an office building. The engine shut off, a subtle hum that was only noticeable when it disappeared, and the businesswoman stepped out of the car, careful to balance on her tall heels. Looking back, she picked up her black purse, and gestured towards the building. "Come on, we're already late."_

_At the sight of the building itself, Himiko froze up. _

_She didn't want to._

_Not again._

_Last week was even worse than normal. And if they did that again, then-_

"_Himiko!"_

_The girl snapped out of her trance, her wide yellow eyes shooting towards the woman outside the car. _

_It didn't matter that she didn't want to. She didn't have a choice._

_So long as she was a monster, she had to._

_She shivered at some non-existent chill, but scurried out of the car, snatching up her backpack and clothes bag._

_Following her aunt, the two entered the building, and walked directly to the elevator. The doors opened with a chime, and the older woman pressed a button. And, as the elevator began its way up, Himiko shook._

_Calm down._

_She licked her lips._

_Calm down._

_Her fists were clenched so tightly, the knuckles were ghostly white._

_She had been through this so many times, it should've been normal, but-_

_Aunt Iku placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and Himiko sucked in a sharp breath. _

"_It's ok. The doctors know what they're doing." Aunt Iku spoke coldly, making a blunt statement of fact._

_Was…_

_Was that supposed to be comforting?_

_Himiko didn't know, but she clung to the woman's hand anyway. A cold and uncaring lifeline. But Papa was gone, and so was Mama. So Aunt Iku was the only lifeline she had._

_When the doors opened again, Himiko had managed to steady her breathing. At least, steady it enough. Aunt Iku stepped out, taking Himiko with her to the lobby desk, and began chatting with the receptionist. Himiko would've listened, but she couldn't hear it over the room's deafening stillness. She stared at the gray carpeted floor, unable to move at all without shaking._

_The lobby was so bare, so soulless. Blaring fluorescent lights and cream-colored walls. Pleather sitting chairs and cheap wooden tables. A scattering of fashion magazines, fake beauty using fake products, and a few dozen pamphlets about quirk illnesses, covered in fake patients with fake smiles. _

_It was all so fake, so forced, it hurt._

_But it didn't just hurt because it was artificial._

_It hurt because it was unattainable._

_This was what she was supposed to be. Pretty and smiling and…_

_And normal. Just normal._

_Aunt Iku just didn't hate Himiko; she hated the monster. And Himiko understood. She did bad things. No one else loved her bites, no one else smiled at the sight of blood. And Himiko knew it was wrong, she knew that she wasn't supposed to. After all, it hurt people, and hurting people was bad. But…_

_But what if that was the only way to show them that she cared? What if it was the only language that Himiko understood? How was the monster ever supposed to be happy?_

_Was the monster allowed to be happy?_

"_Ok, you should be just about ready!" The receptionist politely smiled at them, and directed their attention towards the door at the back of the lobby. "Dr. Nisechiryo will be out in just a moment."_

"_Ah, thank you." Bowing her head in response, Aunt Iku dragged Himiko over to the chairs beside the door. Sitting down in one of them, she pushed Himiko into the other, and cleared her throat._

_The girl simply fiddled with the straps on her backpack, her mouth dry. She glanced over, just to find Aunt Iku had flipped out her phone, reading the news. If it was going to be a while, then..._

_She licked her lips, daring to force a smile. She could be anywhere else, but in this lobby, in the place, she couldn't. Her mouth simply refused to comply. So instead, she settled for hiding behind her bookbag, desperate to maintain her mask. If no one else saw her frown, she could pretend it was a smile. "M-may I read my book?"_

_Aunt Iku looked over, raising an eyebrow as she suspiciously scanned the girl. Himiko fidgeted, but the woman just sighed disinterestedly. "Fine."_

"_T-thank you." Himiko tore her bag open, fumbling to grab the heavy book at the bottom as though it were some hidden treasure that may try to escape._

'_Our Oddities: Quirks, their biology, and our genetics'_

_Smiling weakly, she flipped the book open, quickly leafing through pages. Let's see… Inheritance… Quirk types… Here! Genetic influences! As she read, she disappeared from the lobby, diving into a world of new knowledge that she meticulously read each and every bit of. _

_This wasn't her book; no, Mrs. Kondo had lent it to her. The teacher had apparently bought it a few weeks ago, and after reading it, thought her student might enjoy it. 'For the up-and-coming scientist,' she had said. Himiko giggle at me memory. She didn't understand everything in the book, not yet. But, one day, she'd be the scientist Mrs. Kondo believed she could be._

"_Now, what's this we have here?" A stout man in a lab coat plucked the book out of Himiko's hands, and the girl cried out, shocked out of her trance._

_The man read a few lines, and then took a curious look at the cover, before giving Himiko a big smile. "Well, it looks like we have a little geneticist-in-training! I always love seeing a young mind interested in science!" He gave a boisterous laugh, and slapped Himiko on the shoulder, a rough and friendly gesture. She flinched away, her muscles tensing at his touch. "So, how are you doing today, little Ms. Toga?"_

"_Dr. Nisechiryo! I'm, uh, I'm doing…" She sputtered, grabbing her book from the man's hands and hugging it close before continuing. "... Alright." She shrunk back, not looking him in the eye._

"_Good! And you, big Ms. Toga?" He turned to Aunt Iku, letting out yet another bighearted laugh. _

"_I am doing quite well, thank you." She politely shook the doctor's hand, her cool smile not quite reaching her eyes. "I am to pick her up monday morning, correct?"_

"_Indeed you are!" The short man's black beard bounced as he spoke, and his teeth were noticeably sharper than normal, not unlike Himiko's own. "We'll just be having a normal session this time, not as intense as last week."_

_Himiko almost sighed in relief at that, but her chest was far too tight to allow that. It was as though, ever since the man entered the room, her chest had been tightly bound with elastic chains, unable to take a deep breath._

"_Well then, I suppose I'll be headed out. Please take care of my niece." She gave the doctor a respectful bow, and patted Himiko on the head. "I'll be back on monday, so behave well, ok?"_

_Himiko nodded silently, not trusting herself to speak, but that was apparently enough for Aunt Iku. She picked up her purse, and quickly excused herself, walking as fast as she politely could._

"_So, little Ms. Toga!" Dr. Nisechiryo clapped his hands, rubbing them together as though he were preparing to cook something. "Shall we get started?" He spun on his heel, his large feet clomping against the floor as he began towards the hallway._

"_Y-yeah…" Himiko nodded, a stiff and jerky movements, before continuing to follow the man. Her wide eyes traveled over him, drinking in every little detail just like a deer watching a mountain lion. _

_The man was the nicest of the doctors, happy and good humored. He told really funny jokes, and was quick to give hugs. In some ways, she should be relieved that he was the one on shift this weekend. The other doctors and nurses saw her just like Aunt Iku did, a beast to be tamed. If it was someone like Dr. Daruma…_

_The man's bronze goggles flashed in her memory, his seaweed-green lenses cold and dead._

_Himiko was glad she had been too worried to eat lunch earlier, because if she hadn't it would've just left her knotted stomach, staining the carpet._

_Finally, they reached a collection of doors gathered around a dead end, each one made of a cold metal that was painted to look like wood. The windows were criss-crossed with thin wire, and the door had a large lock on the outside._

_Unlocking the door, Dr. Nisechiryo bowed and waved his arm. "Here you are, little lady!" He smiled, and stood at the door as she entered._

_It was a small room, one that Himiko had been in many times. A bed, a toilet. A small desk, but no paper or pencils. A hospital gown carefully folded and placed in the desk chair. And all of it was just as sterile and fake as the lobby. Himiko swallowed, and entered, clenching her bags in whiteknuckled hands._

"_Well, I'll be back in just a moment!" He patted Himiko on the head, and drew out a set of keys. "I'll just start getting the station ready, so don't be too slow in getting dressed. Oh, I know! It's a race to see which of us is faster. Deal?"_

_He laughed, but Himiko couldn't respond, just staring at the gown. There were a few moments of dead silence, before the man forced a chuckle, and closed the door. There was a small click, and the thudding of footsteps. But Himiko still didn't move._

_Her two bags dropped to the ground, but her eyes refused to budge from the pale blue paper dress._

_Looking at it, she already knew what this weekend would hold. Every single muscle in her body screamed to run, to try the door to do something, anything! But…_

_But it was useless. No matter what she tried, she could never stop it. And every single time, they told her the same thing:_

'_It's for your own good.'_

_She clenched her teeth, tears stinging the corners of her eyes._

_How would this fix anything? How was any of this helping? How-_

_Her voice caught, a weak mewl escaping her throat._

_How would any of this fix the monster?_

_Slowly, almost hesitantly, she stripped, replacing her clothes with the paper gown. It felt too light, too breezy. There was barely anything covering her at all, and the cool air nipped at her skin._

_There was a light knock at the door. "Ms. Toga? Are you ready in there?"_

"_Y-" She choked on her dry throat. "Yes."_

"_Ah, good!" Dr. Nisechiryo unlocked the door, and it creaked open. "Please come this way!"_

_Following the man down the hallway, they soon arrived in a room filled with machines. On one end, there was a small television screen, with a heavy chair bolted to the floor in front of it. And, set up all around the chair, were various machines, each one covered in slick white plastic. Dozens of knobs and buttons covered the surfaces of all of them, and many, many more thin wires were wrapped up, clean and ready for use._

_Without prompting, Himiko moved to the chair. The plastic cushioning wrinkled as she sat down, and she made no moves as the doctor bound her wrists, ankles, and forehead. The straps felt far too tight, but they always did._

_After the straps were secured, the doctor checking three times to be sure, he began to place the wires on her skin. Her arms, chest, legs, head; there was barely a place left without a wire in sight. He'd press them against her flesh, sticky tan pads keeping them in place. And Himiko simply held still, watching the doctor prepare the treatment. _

_She knew the process. She knew not to resist. So long as she complied, Dr. Nisechiryo wouldn't call the nurses. She remembered what happened when she did._

_The first time they had used the machine, she hadn't understood until it was too late._

_The second time, she had fought tooth and nail to escape._

_And Dr. Daruma hadn't shown an ounce of sympathy._

_She took a sharp breath, desperate to forget the memory._

_She glanced up, seeing Dr. Nisechiryo's smile as he worked. It was… It was a natural smile. A kind one. One that seemed to say that everything would be ok, and that today was a normal day._

_It was terrifying._

"_So, Ms. Toga!" _

"_H-huh?" The silence in Himiko's mind was shattered by the round man's voice, the girl snapping back to reality and breaking her petrified stare._

_The man smiled at her, continuing to place the pads on her skin, each one very carefully placed. "Have you followed our little promise?"_

_Himiko's heart dropped._

_The promise. The promise that he always checked in on._

_Oh no._

_Himiko's mouth felt like a dried up riverbed, and she choked on the dust. "... M-mostly…"_

_No._

_The answer was no._

_But she didn't want to say that, not at all._

_Because she knew he'd have-_

_There it was. That disappointed look. Almost like a kicked puppy, but somehow more in control. The two men were nothing alike, but when he was disappointed, the doctor looked nearly identical to Papa._

_She would've ducked her head, trying to hide from his sad frown, his solemn eyes, but the strap on her forehead kept her firmly in place._

_Dr. Nisechiryo paused, simply looking at Himiko his sad brown eyes. "Please be honest with me. I only want to help."_

_Help._

_He just wanted to help._

_Even if his help couldn't fix her..._

_She could see it in his eyes, that he wasn't lying._

_He did care. He genuinely wanted to help her._

_She bit her lip, her heart twisted and heavy. She couldn't lie to him, and she knew it._

"_M-my friend…" Himiko began slowly, trying to think of some way to escape his disappointment without lying. "She got a cut. And I wanted to cheer her up, so… was that wrong?"_

_She hadn't cut her friend. She'd stopped doing that, at least. This time, her friend had just tripped and scratched herself. And, when she started crying… Well, Himiko simply acted on instinct. A little bit of blood, just enough to transform. A lot of smiles. Any jokes she could think of, just to cheer her up._

_The girl shrunk under the doctor's stare, her stomach sick and twisted with guilt._

_The doctor let out a long sigh, a sad sound that only made Himiko feel worse, before continuing to apply the pads. "Little miss, I understand why. No one likes seeing others get hurt. But you can't just do that. It's not sanitary, and even if she didn't say anything, probably very scary." _

_Himiko tried to nod, but her head was still strapped to the chair. She had scared the girl, and she knew it. No matter what she had tried, the girl just cried harder. And… and it made her feel awful! She hadn't just failed, she had made it worse! Tears singed Himiko's eyes, and she had to blink away her watery vision._

"_Some people's quirks help people, yes." The doctor gave Himiko a meaningful look, as though he was saying what was necessary, but not what he wanted. A man breaking the news to his daughter that, sometimes, dreams don't come true. "But sometimes, we need to draw lines. And quirks like yours, the best thing that they can do is sit quietly in a corner, where we can live life without them."_

_Himiko was motionless, her eyes locked on her lap. "... Why? Why is my quirk bad?"_

_The man took a deep breath, and placed one of his meaty hands on her head, trying his best to comfort her. "Ms. Toga, your quirk hurts people. Even when you don't mean to, it hurts people. And do you know what you call someone who hurt others over and over, despite knowing the consequences?" He paused for a moment, as if the girl would answer him. "A villain." _

… _A villain._

_Was that what Mama was? She hurt Himiko, over and over. And Papa too. She had told her so._

_But they had liked it. It was like hugs and kisses. So, were they still villains?_

_Were they all monsters?_

_A heavy silence filled the room, like black ink spreading to fill an entire aquarium. It seemed to creep into every crevice, fill every cranny, until there was nothing left but oppressive emptiness._

"_... I'm sorry, that was a depressing thought!" Dr. Nichiryo clapped his hands together, attempting to recover his normal cheery energy, before placing the last pad and bumbling over to on of the machines. "Let's just get started!"_

"_O-okay."_

_They were about to begin._

_She could barely blink, her eyes held open by the electric fear coursing through her veins._

_She could barely breathe, her entire body shaking._

_She could barely think, her mind filled with thick, sludge-like terror._

_Any moment now._

_It could happen at the flick of a switch._

_Was there really no other way?_

_Was there no other way for her to be fixed?_

_Or was she just doomed to be a villain?_

_She didn't want to! S-she wanted to help people!_

_She wished she had a normal quirk!_

_She wished she had a normal life!_

_She wished-_

_The first slide appeared on screen, and searing electricity tore through her veins, her muscles tearing themselves apart as they were set on fire._

_And, like a bird trapped in an electrified cage, the child screamed._

)ooOoo(

A bloodcurdling scream shattered the midnight silence.

Izuku's eyes snapped open, and he shot up. Was that-?

Another scream tore through the air, almost a sob.

"Toga?" The boy threw off his blanket, scrambling out of his bed. He barged through his door and rushed down the hallway, whatever nighttime exhaustion left quickly melting away to his rising panic. "Toga!"

That was her scream. He had never heard her scream before, and definitely not like this, but there was no mistaking that it was her voice. And there was no mistaking the absolute terror in it.

Stumbling into the living room, he caught sight of her, curled up on the sofa. Blankets and pillows were strewn every which way, and she was huddled in the corner, her small body racked by violent sobs.

… Oh god.

He was at her side. There was no passage of time, no moment of thought. Simply, one moment he was at the entrance to the living room, and the next, he was on the sofa, hugging her close. He placed his forehead against hers, and bit his lip, sputtering out whatever came to mind in something almost like a coo. "I-it's ok, Toga… I'm here for you, I'm here…"

Was that supposed to be reassuring? He had sounded like an overstrung violin! All he was going to do was make her panic more! How do you comfort someone? How do you comfort _Himiko?_ Is he supposed to say anything? But she probably wouldn't even hear any of what he was saying, much less understand it! And was his hug even helping? Oh All Might, he's not wearing a shirt! But he couldn't just go back and grab one! He couldn't leave Himiko alo-

"Is everything alright?!" His mom burst into their room, dressed in an old green nightgown and her hair a frizzy mess. She immediately caught sight of the two teenagers huddled on the sofa, and gasped. She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it, and…

… Were those hand signals? She pointed at Himiko, and then… what was she trying to say? He could squint as much as he liked in the dark, but the woman's frantic hand-waving still made no sense. Izuku tried to handwave back, but the confusion was obvious on Mom's face. The boy was about to try again, but another sharp gasp racked Himiko's body, and his hands instantly went back to trying to comfort her.

Mom bit her lip, worry filling her green eyes, and her voice came out in a tense whisper. "What happened?"

Izuku shook his head, and mouthed 'I don't know,' his voice afraid to speak. A nightmare? That's all he could think of. But he couldn't even begin to imagine what it was about. She somehow always managed to smile, even in the worst of situations, so to see her reduced to this shivering, fragile mess, snot and tears running down her face as she struggled to breath… Izuku could only stare in horror.

It took all of the will in his body, but he somehow managed to tear his eyes away from her, and look towards Mom. Licking his chapped lips, his jaw shook as he spoke. "I-... I'll calm her down, ok? You have work tomorrow, and…" He glanced at the clock, and then back towards his mom. "... It's almost three, so go get some rest. I'll tell you in the morning."

Mom looked unconvinced, a worried scowl on her face as she watched Himiko. Izuku could see the concern in her eyes, the exact same type she had whenever Izuku himself got hurt. "Are you sure? I can help if you want, and…" The woman swallowed, her words petering out as she wrung her hands.

Was he sure?

His closest friend was bawling her eyes out in his arms, so emotionally broken that she seemed almost unresponsive, and Izuku would give anything in the world to make her better.

So no, he wasn't sure, not in the least. Mom would almost certainly know how to comfort the girl better than him, how to calm her down and perhaps even cheer her up. But…

But despite that, Izuku didn't want to let her. He didn't want to move, didn't want to let go of her. He…

He wanted to be the one to comfort her. And even though his mind told him that it was stupid, that it was selfish, the pain in his chest refused to let him give Mom a chance.

He set his jaw, nodding with the confidence of a doctor about to conduct heart surgery for the first time. "... I can take care of this."

Mom look at him cautiously, and then at Himiko, before reluctantly nodding. "O-ok. but if anything happens, come and get me." She spoke hesitantly, but with authority, the words becoming a binding agreement the moment they left Mom's mouth. Izuku nodded silently, and his mom took a step back into her room, not quite closing the door.

Himiko choked back a whimper, and pressed her face into his chest. Her thin arms wrapped around him, and she clutched at his back, sharp nails digging into his shoulder blades. Izuku gasped in pain, but didn't move away, only holding her closer. He wouldn't let go, not until she wanted to. Not until she was ready.

For a few long minutes, or possibly just an extremely short eternity, they simply sat there, embracing each other.

The world was still, but the room was filled with sobs.

The winter air was frigid, but the girl's skin was hot.

Izuku's hands were steady, but Himiko still shook.

"It's okay, it's okay…" Maybe it was stupid, maybe it wouldn't work, but as Izuku brushed the girl's knotted hair with his fingers, he whispered words of comfort. "I'm here for you…"

It took time, but the girl began to calm down. The broken sobs and sharp gasps became weak whimpers and sniffles, a shattered porcelain doll piecing itself together. Her grip on him loosened, but she refused to let go, resting her head on his shoulder.

Izuku absently played with her hair, staring at the thin strands between his fingers as his thoughts lingered.

It was strange, the thing he noticed when the world was completely still.

The feeling of Himiko's chest rising and falling, in perfect tempo with his own.

The smell, of himself, of his house, of the girl hugging him close. All so different, yet so intertangled it was hard to pin down which sensations belonged to each.

And perhaps most noticeable, how small Himiko actually was. She was honestly a tiny girl, now that he looked at her. During the day, she was this ball of energy, an unstoppable force that could barrel through anything, regardless of how unmoveable it was. But here, bathed in dark shadows, it was apparent how thin and twig-like she was.

It made Izuku's heart tighten.

Himiko shifted against him, raising her head. And, for the first time that night, Izuku saw her face.

Himiko wasn't a pretty crier, not in the least. It was the strangest thought to have, and Izuku didn't have the slightest clue why it was the one that appeared in his head, but she just wasn't. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her cheeks were streaked with dark eyeliner. She wiped her nose, and tried to keep her breathing steady as her eyes lingered over him, wearily considering something Izuku couldn't hope to understand. She opened her mouth, but took a moment to speak, her voice having gotten lost along the way.

"... Have you ever wanted to change your quirk?"

The silence was deafening.

"... What?" Whatever had been holding Izuku's brain together must've decided that the effort simply wasn't worth it, because his brain shut down. He simply stared at her, his green eyes begging for an answer.

"I-I know you don't have one, but I mean…" Himiko weakly sputtered the words out, as though she secretly knew the effort was pointless, but then forced a smile, a pale shadow of her normal gleefulness. "Imagine if you could. Imagine if you could just stick a needle in your arm, and then _poof! _A different you, new and improved!" She laughed, but it was a hollow sound, a cafeteria bell ringing in a school that had been abandoned for decades.

"W-what are you talking about?" Izuku stared in shock, unable to tear his gaze away from her strained smile. Changing quirks? What did that have to do with anything? Why would she-

… What would drive her to want to change her own?

She reached up, running her fingers through his hair. "You could be a hero! You could change your DNA, and then suddenly be able to spit flames, or have bigger muscles, or whatever you wanted! And I could-" Her voice caught, and she choked back tears. "And I could be normal. I could be more than a villain."

Izuku grabbed her wrist, and stared into her shattered yellow eyes, a worried scowl on his face.

It was so… so wrong! Seeing her like this, the desperation to be happy, it was like he was watching her smack her head against a concrete wall over and over, telling herself it was perfectly normal! And it hurt, like Izuku's chest was being torn apart piece by piece! Like his stomach was being cut open and filled with liquid nitrogen. And… and it made him angry. Angry to see her treat herself like this, angry to watch her pretend. Angry that he still knew practically nothing, and not anywhere close enough to being able to help her. He grit his teeth, and hissed. "... You're not a villain."

"Yes I am." She bit her lip and tried to look away in shame, but Izuku held her cheek in place, denying her the chance. "I've hurt people. I've hurt _you._ And I've done it, over and over, even though I know full well that- That I can't fix it!"

Was this how she saw herself? Just some villain in the making? Just some failed experiment, bound to hurt everyone around her? How could she even think like that? She had her unique little tendencies, but to hurt someone? To actually, intentionally hurt someone? It wasn't just unlikely, it was... impossible, simply put. There wasn't another person on earth that was more caring and compassionate than the girl in his arms, no hero, no doctor, no one! Izuku held her tighter, his firm eyes burrowing into her.

"Toga, you haven't hurt me. And the others…" Izuku paused, chewing on his lips. She had hurt people, she had told him. The person at her foster care center. But… but if she was the girl Izuku thought she was, if she was the girl Izuku had come to love, it couldn't have been out of anything other than love. "Maybe they'll understand, someday. Villains, they hurt people because they don't care. They hurt people because they want something that someone else has. But what you do… you only do it because you care."

"I-!" Himiko stared up at him, beginning to shake. Tears filled her eyes, along with a myriad of other emotions. Pain. Regret. Desire and self-loathing, mixing together into some sort of self-destructive cycle. Her voice wavered, and she leaned closer, enough that he could feel her breath against his face. "I wanna be someone else. I wanna show that I care some other way. Without hurting people, without scaring them. I… I wanna be normal. Izuku… I want to become you..."

A few small words.

A simple request.

But Izuku's breath hitched.

She leaned towards the nape of his neck, opening her jaw even wider as she squeezed her eyes shut.

Izuku couldn't breath. His heart thudded against his ribs. His eyes were forced open, and his muscles had an electric current running through them, so stiff and tense that something might tear if he tried to move.

Her teeth suddenly seemed so much longer, shimmering fangs in the low light. They were… pretty, in the dangerous way. He _wanted _to feel it. He wanted her to sink her teeth in, to taste his blood, claim him as her own.

He wanted to be hers.

Her partner.

Her prey.

But…

But the desperation in her voice, the loneliness in her eyes.

This wasn't what Izuku wanted!

"N-no!" He pushed her away, stumbling back. The sofa was under him, and then it wasn't. The world lost its orientation, and his shoulder slammed against the wooden floor with a dull thud. Scrambling to his knees, he looked up-

To see the pain in her eyes. The rejection.

He reached out, to touch her, to comfort her, to do _something,_ but she pulled away.

"… I scare you too, don't I?" She couldn't even keep up her fake smile together, the fragile thing falling apart in front of Izuku's eyes. "And not just in that cute little surface way, right? I can see it, in your eyes. Deep down, you're scared of me. Just like everyone else. And, just like everyone else, I'll eventually have to leave, right? I'll scare you too much, and you'll push me away! I'll have to leave, to disappear from you life just like I have from everyone else's!" She shouted at him, her nails digging into her arms.

No.

No, no, no, nononono!

This wasn't happening!

He wouldn't let this happen!

Izuku didn't hesitate, grabbing both of her shoulders despite her attempts to escape his grip.

"I'm scared of losing you!" The dam broke. The storm of emotions that had existed in his heart, that he had been so careful to compartmentalize and seal off from one another, burst free and began pouring out of his mouth. "Himiko, I don't want you to become me, or mom, or anyone else, because I want you to be you! I don't want you to be normal! I've never seen a 'normal' person with a smile like yours, or a 'normal' person with that sparkle in your eyes! No one 'normal' has ever believed in me, no one 'normal' ever gave me a chance! But you…"

He choked on his own words. What was he saying? He didn't even know. There was no filter, nothing in place to let him know what was being said before Himiko did. And Himiko just watched in shock, in disbelief.

He grit his teeth, and looked her dead in the eye, wanting to make sure she understood. Wanting to make sure he understood. So that, when the words left his mouth, they would be more than just vibrations in the air. "Himiko, you saved me. _You _pulled me off that ledge, _you_ put your faith in me. Of all the people on this earth, _you _were the only one who cared enough to open up to me, even with no guarantee that I'd understand or accept you. And so… I-I don't want you to change. At least, not like that."

There was a stiff silence as she stared at him, and neither of them moved. Himiko didn't look sad, not anymore. But… She didn't look happy either. She made no movement to draw him closer or push him away, simply watching as the gears behind her eyes turned. She looked like a machine, cold and distant, rusted and overworked. As though something inside of her, the thing that made emotions, it had simply given up. But, after a few moments, she fell forwards, collapsing into Izuku's embrace.

She… she wasn't going to fight him. She wasn't going to leave him.

Izuku let out a relieved sigh, and tears stung the edges of his eyes.

Oh lord, his heart hurt.

"... There's a lot I haven't told you." Her voice was low and soft, as though she were simply saying it out of obligation. Out of some need to prove herself a monster.

Had he have been less tired, Izuku would've said something the moment the words left her mouth. But instead, he gave his hazy mind a moment to consider, the two teenagers resting against the sofa.

Izuku took a deep breath, petting the back of her head. "T-thats ok, I think. I mean, t-there's a lot I haven't told you about myself. We've only known each other for a few months, after all…" His words fell apart after that, but the meaning was clear.

A laugh escaped Himiko's lips. "You think nine months is a short time?"

There was her giggle. Izuku smiled softly, his green eyes full of affection. It wasn't big or energetic; no, if anything, this laugh was kind of sad. But it was a laugh, a genuine 'Himiko laugh.' And, honestly, Izuku couldn't ask for more. "When you want to spend your life with someone, nine months isn't really that long."

Himiko's eyes shot towards him, filled with surprise.

What was she-?

_Wait._

The true meaning of what Izuku had just said dawned on him, and just like sunrise, his face turned bright red. "Wait, I, uh, I mean-!"

Himiko laughed out loud, a massive smile spreading across her face. It was almost as though this girl and the one from moments before were entirely different people, and this one had just won the lottery. "Words are hard sometimes, aren't they? So, I just have one question..." She reached up, cupping his cheek and cocking her head, almost like a baby bird. "... Do you mean it?"

Oh All Might, save him!

His heart was in his throat, and his foot was in his mouth. He couldn't deny it! He couldn't just say no! But to confess to her? The very thought sent his mind into panicked spirals! But after so long of just standing beside her, trying to trick himself into thinking that he could never be anything more than just a friend-!

"Y-yes!" He blurted it out, as though he were an athlete doing call and response with his coach.

Himiko squealed, her smile spreading even wider. "What do you mean?"

What did he mean? God, he didn't know! He didn't know what the feeling in his heart was, why the thought of her toothy smile made him blush or why his stomach did backflips whenever she touched him. But he answered anyway, saying the only thing that felt anywhere close to right.

"I love you!" 

"And I love you too!"

"Wait, you d-?" Izuku's eyes snapped open, but before he could even finish his question, the girl tackled him from point blank, throwing him down onto the sofa.

And her teeth sunk into his neck.

Izuku gasped, choking back a scream. Pain, pleasure, exhilaration and joy all mixed together in some indescribable sensation. It was terrifying, it was amazing. The sharp fangs puncturing his skin, her tongue hungrily licking up his blood.

Izuku shivered, drowning in pleasure. But… but this was only half of it.

His breath came in sharp rasps, and his eyes lingered over the nape of her neck.

She had claimed him.

And now he had to claim her.

Leaning down, he twisted around her, and bit down.

Not hard, not nearly as hard as she bit him. But enough to draw blood. Enough to taste her life, bitter and metallic. Enough to show he cared.

The two were in no rush to break from their embrace. But when they did, Izuku was glad he knew where the first aid kit was.

**A/N: G'evenin', everyone. Does this count as a big kiss? Like, it ain't, but… ya know, pretty close. We'll say they can improve their aim. Sorry about the lack of comment responses, I finished editing this in the early hours of the morning and then realized I had no author's note. **

**Also! I've been crunching a few numbers, and I have both good and bad news, depending on your mentality. Simply put, looking at the current pace of plot progression, and casting a look over 'the chart,' it's looking like this story is gonna be somewhere in the 900,000 to 1,000,000 word mark. So… strap in, I suppose. I don't need sleep anyway!**

**With only the worst of intentions,**

**Imp the Nefarious.**


	16. Chapter 16

The sound of bird calls, light and fluttery. A subtle sound, dawning across Himiko's consciousness like the soft light of sunrise.

It felt nice.

Everything felt nice, actually.

It wasn't that everything felt perfect; far from it. Her limbs felt sore, twisted at uncomfortable angles all night, and her neck and shoulders had a very distinct sting. But, waking up so naturally, the cool winter light of dawn pouring through the windows and the peaceful silence of early morning filling the still air, it just felt nice. Ah, but that wasn't the best part. No, the best part was underneath her.

She groaned, nuzzling her face into Izu-kun's shoulder and pulling the blanket tighter around them.

Normally, she'd just jump out of bed and straight into the new day. Things to do, places to see, books to read. Inko might have only given her a few daily chores, but that didn't mean Himiko didn't keep herself busy. As soon as the sun rose, so did she, ready to join her companion on his morning jog. She had taken to some new habits as well, from drawing to reading Izu-kun's books to catching up on the school subjects she had neglected for a year. She had no lack of reasons to wake up, but...

Well, the air was cold, and Izu-kun's chest was warm. So, she would allow herself an exception just this once.

She smiled giddily to herself, snuggling up against her companion. Her fingers played with his mossy green hair, and a lovesick blush spread across her face, hot and pink. Just thinking about last night made her heart flutter, and her smile was so wide it almost hurt.

It was unbelievable. Everything about it really. Perfect, dreamlike, a start to a day she thought she'd never have. The first day of school, and the first day of her relationship with Izu-kun. Two things that were so perfectly _normal_, that they almost seemed mundane. Two things she never thought she'd have.

She giggled to herself, letting herself fantasize a bit longer. Letting herself see into their futures. Izu-kun was going to be a hero, a _real _hero. The sort that actually cared about others, the sort that genuinely helped others. And Himiko would become a renowned bioengineer, building a better humanity one base pair at a time. Maybe he could be her first experiment! It would most certainly help him, in some ways. She gave herself a moment to ponder the idea, feeling the lean curves of his chest as she thought about exactly what she would do to him. What quirk would suit him best? What could she change in him to make him all that much better? An emitter or transformation quirk, more than likely… But then again, there wouldn't be anything wrong with giving him a set of fangs like her own… If she could do something like that, she could almost certainly fix herself.

… It was so odd, really. The doctor and the hero. It… It was just like Mama and Papa, just a bit flipped. Hopefully, she and Izu-kun would love each other just like Mama and Papa did. And, with Mrs. Midoriya supporting them, they were almost the perfect family. She smiled warmly, a baby bird that had found its way back to the nest.

She pressed her ear to his chest, hearing his heart beat as his chest rose and fell. The world was at peace, seemingly everything at harmony on that chilly winter morning. But then, a small thought niggled at the back of her mind.

… How did relationships work? Her smile flickered, and she paused, a lock of the sleeping boy's hair wrapped around her finger. What was she supposed to do, now that she lived with her boyfriend? What would change? Something was going to change, obviously. She _wanted _something to change. But… she wasn't sure exactly what. Something that proved their relationship in a more tangible way, something more than just the jagged bite marks on their necks. She wanted him to be hers, completely and entirely.

Himiko snuggled closer to him, almost possessive as she let his scent fill her nose.

She… well, she would be the first to admit she didn't quite understand how relationships worked, or, at least not how normal ones did. The closest she had ever been to having a relationship was with Aimi, and even that had ended in rejection and… more rejection, really. There wasn't another word for what happened, or, at least, not one Himiko wanted to admit. And then there were all of the others, the ones she had been with before she met Izu-kun.

It was always the same story, as thought she had been caught in some hellish cycle. It was the exact same trap, but she fell for it over and over again.

A sidelong glance, a friendly smile.

The first conversation, the warm tendril of friendship reaching out to a cracked and confused soul.

A kind soul, and a lost child.

But her heart would cry out for them, a growing cry, wanting more and more until finally-

A confession. A rejection. A scream into the abyss as her teeth plunged into their neck. Hot tears and forced smiles, her body filling with syrup-sweet pleasure as her blade traveled up and down their soft flesh.

And, as the body grew cold, the lost child would stumble out of the alley, just as broken as before.

Himiko shivered, swallowing the bitter bile in her throat.

So… this, to have someone accept her for who she was, to have someone who didn't want her to change, she didn't know what to do. It might be peaceful waters, but they were still uncharted. And she didn't know where the boundaries were. She would do anything to stay with him, to not end up alone out in the cold city. The only thing worse than being alone was being abandoned, being pushed away and cast aside.

Himiko knew that she had only caused Mama issues, but she never wanted to feel like that again.

… Izu-kun wouldn't do that. Himiko looked down at the sleeping boy's face, dotted with freckles and fenced in by soft tufts of green hair. She had to have faith in him. He trusted her so completely, despite how little he knew about her, and he deserved that same trust. Her smile came back to her face, small and wistful.

She didn't know how relationships were supposed to work. She didn't know how love was supposed to work. And, even as smart as Izu-kun was, he probably didn't either. But they'd figure it out together.

There was a groan, and Izu-kun shuffled underneath her, his hands shifting from her waist to the small of her back as they tried to figure out exactly what they were touching.

There he was.

Himiko giggled, her cheeks pink as tulips as she peered down at him with sunflower-yellow eyes. "Good mooorning, Mr. Mossy."

"T-Toga?! What are yo-?" Izu-kun snapped up so quickly he almost threw the girl off him, but before he could so much as finish his sentence, his mouth was occupied by a certain other's. He resisted for a moment, grunting through the kiss in dull sounds that almost resembled words, but quickly surrendered, joining the blonde in a messy and passionate kiss. Tongues mingled, lips were bit, and by the time the two separated, they both took a moment to recover their breath. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, straddling him as she rested her forehead against his.

"You…" She panted, licking her lips. "You said Himiko last night."

"Well, uh, that was on accident, and…" He ducked his head, turning pink as his eyes tentatively darted back and forth, sneaking in small glances at Himiko. "Can I? C-call you Himiko, I mean!"

Could he call her that? She nearly rolled her eyes, a cool but satisfied smile on her face as she traced his jawline with lithe fingers. "Only if I can call you Izu-kun."

Izu-kun cocked his head, furrowing his eyebrows. "But you already-" She saw the circuit connect behind his green eyes, and he gasped in realization. His face somehow became even redder, as though the shrub had managed to turn into a cherry, and he nodded like a nervous child who was just told a very important secret.

He was always like this, so mature and yet so childish. He cared so deeply, even though he barely understood her, and he admired heroes so much, despite acknowledging their flaws. It was adorable! Himiko chuckled, hiding her mouth behind her hand.

Izu-kun opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated, a bit of worry creeping into his eyes. But he still smiled, a soft gesture that failed miserably in concealing his concern as he squeezed her hand. "... Please don't do that."

"Hm?" She cocked her head, her smile falling just a bit. What had she been doing? What boundary had she pushed? A cold hand squeezed her heart a bit, but she refused to let it reach her face, forcing a curious, if concerned, scowl. "Don't do what? Laugh?"

First, he looked confused, his smile falling a bit as he tried to understand. But then it clicked, and his eyes went wide with panic. "N-no, not that!"

"What is it?" Himiko let her hand rest at the base of Izu-kun's neck, curling a strand of his hair around one finger as she watched his reaction with slit-like eyes. She couldn't… well, she couldn't risk pushing too far. He had already come to accept so much, but she didn't want to gamble, not on Izu-kun. He was reliable, but not a sure bet.

… No one was, really. The others, they had all been different levels of accepting. Izuku was simply the most accepting so far.

Don't think about it. Not now. Everything's going to be okay. Izu-kun wouldn't reject her. She wouldn't have to-

Oh god, her stomach twisted at the thought. She didn't want to be alone again.

Never again.

"You…" Izu-kun paused for a moment, looking everywhere but her face as he selected just the right words, and Himiko snapped out of her bloody thoughts. She stared intently at him, her entire body so tense that there might as well have been electricity running through it. "You keep hiding your smile. It's very pretty, and, uh… I like it."

… Her smile?

For a few moments, the air was tense. Izu-kun shifted nervously under her, afraid of her reaction, and-

Himiko burst out laughing, a high and lopsided sound.

"H-Himiko?" The boy just stared at her, his cracked voice warning of a heart attack in the making. But Himiko just smiled wider, and hugged him close.

Of everything she was expecting to hear, that wasn't it! But, should she expect anything less from her Izu-kun? He hadn't only accepted her bites, but the teeth marks on her shoulders proved he bit back! And it wasn't hard to guess what he saw in her smile.

When Himiko smiled, people usually only saw one thing: A set of sharp, elongated canines. Four fangs, perfectly placed daggers made to pierce flesh. Aunt Iku told her to hide them, to only smile with her mouth shut. Aimi teased her about it, told her that they weren't cute. But Izu-kun?

Izu-kun thought they were pretty.

"I'll make sure not to, just for you!"

There were a few moments of silence, but Himiko didn't mind. It wasn't tense, at least, not for her. Izu-kun leaned against the arm of the sofa, and the blonde snuggled into the nape of his neck, completely at ease in his arms. She had barely been awake for twenty minutes, and she already felt better than she did most days, as though the warm rays of the summer sun were spending the winter in her heart.

It was a funny feeling. Almost as though the whole thing was fake, some mirage that had yet to wear off. Was this what love always felt like? She licked her lips, a question lingering on her tongue. "... Did you like the kiss?"

"Huh?" Izu-kun practically jumped at the question, and Himiko didn't need to look to know the boy was blushing. He fumbled with his words, before finally forcing the syllables out of his mouth. "Yeah, and, uh… Can we… can we do it again?"

Himiko chuckled, cupping his cheek in one hand. He was such a child, and she loved it. But, judging by the heat that stung her cheeks, she was one too. Her heart was tight with excitement, and she couldn't wipe the stupid smile off her face if she tried. "Sure!"

Leaning down, she kissed him again, and he kissed back. But this one… it was nothing like the one before. It was… soft. Careful. Where the other had animalistic desire, this one had loving tenderness. Where the other had recklessness, this one had hesitance. The first one was them diving headfirst into the abyss, just like last night; this one was them learning how to swim. Himiko held her companion's face, and Izu-kun's hands wandered up and down her back, wholly uncertain of where they were supposed to be. They broke apart briefly, and then pressed their lips together again, slightly more comfortable with the process than before. But…

But something was lacking.

… They had done it just like the movies, right? Himiko couldn't think of anything that they did wrong. And it was hard to put her finger on exactly what was different from last night. It was… less genuine. If she had to put a word on it, that was it. As though they were simply going through motions, rather than expressing what they felt.

The two broke apart, both with nervous smiles on their faces. Like they enjoyed it, but had nothing to say. And, well… she didn't, really. She had enjoyed last night far more; the feeling of his flesh, the taste of his blood. But she was an odd one, and had been her entire life. So maybe Izu-kun preferred it this wa-

"... Is it weird that I like the biting more?"

Himiko snapped out of her thoughts, suddenly realizing that she was staring. A nervous smile stretched across Izu-kun's face as he scratched the back of his head, so completely unsure he was allowed to say what he was saying, while Himiko smiled back in the exact same way.

Himiko snorted, and shrugged. "I do too. But I thought we should give kissing a try. It looks super cute in the movies!"

"Yeah, but honestly… I like our way better." Izu-kun chuckled, the air tense enough to cut.

In that moment, neither spoke a word, but Himiko could tell an agreement was struck: good morning kisses should aim for the neck.

"S-so…" Izu-kun coughed, trying to find the words without sounding awkward. He was failing, and Himiko couldn't blame him. "We're dating?"

"Mm-hm!" She nodded, trying her best to sound enthusiastic. But it sounded tinny and hollow in the tense air.

Izu-kun bit his lip. "What do we do now?"

That… was a good question. She placed a finger on her chin, letting her yellow eyes wander. What were they supposed to do now? What was a couple supposed to do at a time like this?

… No, better question, what would _they _do at a time like this? Her eyes flashed over, catching sight of the wall clock. 6:02.

A smile crept onto her face, and she looked down at her green-haired companion. The answer was simple, now that she thought about it. "... Breakfast?"

Izu-kun stared for a moment, confused, but then it clicked in his mind. "I guess, yeah."

Just because they were dating, it didn't mean things had to be complicated. And Himiko preferred it that way.

)ooOoo(

The morning passed quickly, from breakfast to their morning chores to their jog. And Himiko didn't mind one bit.

The omelets had tasted just as good as normal, filled with the melty cheese that Himiko had so come to love since moving in. The banter between the two teens was relaxed and casual, as though nothing had changed at all. The dishes were just as easy to wash, and Izu-kun still refused to let her transform into him, as though something like 'Himiko having her own exercise clothes now' was a reason for her not to.

If anything, the largest change was the fact that the two had beaten their record run time.

"Fifteen minutes! A five minute kilometer!" Himiko flung open the door to the apartment, announcing their new record for all to hear. Barreling through the doorway, she threw her hands up in victory, adrenaline and dopamine making her smile all the wider.

"Fifteen minutes and twelve seconds, really. But, with that, we're only twelve seconds from hitting our speed goal, meaning we could up our distance once again." Izu-kun trailed close behind her, an exhausted but satisfied smile on his freckled face. He peeled off his red scarf, hanging it in the entrance as he began to count off some unknown thing in one hand. "Hopefully we can run 3.5 kilometers in fifteen minutes by the time of the exam. That would give me an average speed of fourteen kilometers an hour over long distances, so long as I don't do anything to blow out my energy. It's not anything compared to a speed quirk, but it should give me enough stamina to maintain my agility and maneuverability for a long enough time to pass the physical test. The main goal over these next few weeks, then, has to be working on my hand to hand precision, as well as cutting out any excess movements that would just drain energy. So, good exercises would be…"

Himiko chuckled, shaking her head as she listened to her companion mutter. It was fascinating, how he could simply conjure all of that up at the drop of a hat. She had no idea how he fit it all behind those emerald eyes. And, even though they had practically hit the goal he had been working at for almost ten months, a five minute kilometer, his first thought was how he could improve more. If anyone deserved to be a hero, it was him.

In some ways, it made her feel even worse.

Despite the dull ache in her heart, Himiko refused to let her smile budge. She grinned cheerfully as she listened to Izu-kun, taking her time to peel off her peach-pink scarf and plum-purple track jacket.

She should be happy for him. She knew she should be. He was on course not only to hit all of his targets, but even surpass them in this last month. He had grown so much, going from timid and weak in battle to an opponent she had to take seriously. He had almost won on several occasions, never pinning her but often coming close. He was a terrifying opponent in some ways, because while Himiko fought with her body, he fought with his mind. He could predict her movements, lay traps, and hit pressure points with such consistency he might as well be guaranteed to hit most times. He had even taken up throwing knives, even if he was only just starting to learn. In all honesty, she would be more surprised if he didn't get into U.A.

And, deep down, she hated that.

She hated that she hated it, but she still did.

He could be more, so much more. She knew he wanted to be a hero, and had no doubt he could do good as one, but he could help even more by… well, she didn't know, but _something _else. It was like trying to use paper to make a boat; Izu-kun was such a clever and hardworking person, she believed wholeheartedly that he could. But what if, instead, he chose to write on that paper? Use it for what it was meant for, rather than try and jam it into a job that it was never meant to fill?

Izu-kun wasn't meant to be a hero. No, that wasn't right. It's that the heroes didn't _deserve_ Izu-kun. They _deserved _to be removed entirely, the entire system taken apart piece by piece, so that they couldn't hurt anyone else. But... but it was what Izu-kun wanted to become. He believed in them so wholeheartedly, so idyllically, it was almost beautiful. Like a young child watching soldiers march to war, dreaming of fighting for his nation without even the slightest understanding of what war really brought.

She loved that light in his eyes, the way it shone with such enthusiasm and purity whenever he made even the smallest of victories. But she was afraid, when he really did become a hero, when he was exposed to those realities, that light would disappear.

… Don't think about that.

Don't let the smile slip.

Everything will be okay. Izuku was going to fix the hero system. He promised it. And, whether he became a hero or not, he was going to.

It was okay.

Slipping her hands into his, Himiko rocked back and forth playfully as an excited smile spread across her lips. "Come on, let's go get ready! I don't wanna be late on my first day!'

"Huh?" Izu-kun glanced towards her, his train of thought still barreling towards a harsher training regimine. But then the gears in his head clicked into place, and he gasped in sudden understanding. "Oh, it is! I forgot about that! Which class are you in?"

"Hm…" Himiko giggled at the boy's loud reaction, leading her boyfriend as she took a few steps back. It wasn't the same class as Izu-kun, but she wasn't sure exactly which. Four? Five? It was one of the ones in the science track. "I don't remember..."

Out of the corner of her eye, Himiko caught sight of a certain green-haired woman in the dining room, quietly picking at her food. At the sight, Himiko grinned, spinning around to face her. "Hey Mrs. Midoriya! Do you remember what class I'm in?"

At the sound of the girl's voice, Mrs. Midoriya glanced up. But when she looked at Himiko, there wasn't a smile on her face. With deliberate movements, she balanced her chopsticks across her bowl, and folded her hands across her lap.

Himiko's stomach dropped.

"Toga, Izuku, sit down." She spoke firmly, almost harshly, with steel in her eyes. Her face, a soft and round thing that tended to wear a worried smile, instead had a stern scowl as she looked between the two children.

Whatever smile had been lingering on Himiko's face evaporated into thin air, replaced by an uncertain scowl. The girl slowly moved to sit across from her adoptive mother, her eyes rushing to absorb any possible detail she had missed. Mrs. Midoriya was never like this. Not once since she had moved in had Himiko seen that expression, and… Why? Nothing in the room looked out of the ordinary. Had she broken something? Had they forgotten to do something? She rested her chin in her hands, careful to hide her concern behind a layer of relaxed confusion as she glanced between Mrs. Midoriya and her boyfriend.

Izu-kun, on the other hand, quickly rushed to sit beside her, his eyes darting back and forth but refusing to look at anyone. His back was as straight as a board, and his hands firmly in his lap, as though he was afraid his head was about to be torn off for having bad manners.

Izu-kun was a nervous boy, Himiko knew it. But seeing him act like this only encouraged the knots forming in her stomach. She swallowed a bit of the bitter bile forming in the back of her throat, turning to face Mrs. Midori-

Wait.

_Waitwaitwait_.

_The bites._

What was nervousness imploded, all of that uneasy energy concentrating into gut-wrenching panic.

Their necks in shoulders were absolutely covered in dozens bite marks, some of which had even formed scabs! And, while Himiko didn't remember everything clearly, she definitely remembered letting out a few screams las-!

"Last night." Mrs. Midoriya spoke clearly and with authority, her eyes traveling between the blonde and her son before finally settling on the green-haired boy in front of her. "Izuku, what happened last night?"

"Oh, uh..! I, uh, well-" Izu-kun sputtered, struggling to piece together a sentence as he shuffled in his seat. "... I… I just helped calm Himiko down…"

Nononono! She can see his neck! It's completely uncovered, and-... Oh god, it looked like she had attacked him! Brown scabs and purple bruises, just like…

Just like with Aimi. Images flashed through her mind, of Aimi crying, of Mrs. Igarashi screaming. Himiko's breath caught in her throat, a tight chain squeezing the air out of her chest as she silently stared at him, hoping the panic in her eyes could convey her message.

Izu-kun liked it.

He said so.

But Izu-kun wasn't in charge.

And if Mrs. Midoriya called the police-

Himiko could feel the weight of her knife in her pocket. She didn't want to. Oh god, she didn't want to. But there was ice in her soul and steel in her eyes.

She was a monster.

She had spilled blood.

And she would do it again.

"Izuku, please don't lie to me! I know you care about her, but please don't lie!" Mrs. Midoriya clenched her teeth, pain and fear peeking out from behind her stern mask. "The two of you were screaming last night! And you necks are covered in-"

"I bit him." Himiko spoke without thinking, talking over Mrs. Midoriya. The older woman's green eyes shot towards Himiko, and the girl flinched, realizing the words came out of her mouth. "It's… It's my fault."

It was. It was her fault. She had been the one to bite first. She had been the one to pretend it was acceptable. But it wasn't. There wasn't even a chance. Everyone had always told her it wasn't, but last night, she had let herself forget for just a little bit.

And now, here the two of them were, in trouble.

She looked down, her eyes starting to sting.

Izu-kun glanced over at her, his eyes filled with concern, before turning to his mom. "But I didn't tell her to stop, so-!"

Mrs. Midoriya delivered a silent glare, cutting off her son. There was a moment of stiff silence, before Mrs. Midoriya finally turned back to Himiko.

"Why did you do it?"

… That was a big question. 'Because it felt good' was the only answer she had. But it wasn't good enough, it never was. Because she was a freak, because normal people didn't do it. So, they'd ask, 'why did it feel good?' And, she couldn't answer that. She didn't know how. She shrunk away from the woman, gnawing on her thumbnail.

Why does a kiss feel good? Why do people enjoy hugging? Why do people like those things? Because of dopamine. Because their bodies told them it was good. But was she just supposed to say that? 'I like drinking blood because then my brain gets filled with chemicals.' She had to say something else. Say something _better._ But there wasn't anything, nothing that would make her seem 'normal.'

... But Izu-kun had understood her. She had never explained it, but he knew. He felt the same way, despite being… well, Izuku. Of all of the people she expected to bite back, she never would've guessed it was going to be the twitchy, soft-spoken Mr. Mossy. She had trusted him, and that trust had paid off. So… maybe Mrs. Midoriya would understand too?

"I… It just felt right." Himiko spoke softly, trying her best to articulate exactly what she felt. She was doing neurosurgery with her tongue. "It feels good to bite people. It's like… like I'm showing them I care. Tasting blood, it feels like I'm tasting their soul. Does... that make sense to you?" She glanced up, her autumn-yellow eyes filled with hope and fear. One hand clenched and the other fumbling with her bangs, Himiko's heart was being squeezed by an iron gauntlet.

Mrs. Midoriya's gaze was no kinder than it was before. But, looking into the girl's eyes, it began to soften. Just a little, ice thawing to slush. Finally, she sighed weakly, and reached across the table, gently lifting himiko's chin. "... Show me your neck."

"Hm?" Himiko furrowed her eyebrows, but complied, letting her adoptive mother inspect the various bite marks across her neck.

The woman licked her lips, squinting in pain as she looked over the wounds. But after a moment, she nodded to herself, and glanced over at her son. "Did you do this?"

Izuku coughed nervously, and nodded uncomfortably. "Y-... Yeah."

"Did both of you clean and treat it?"

Izu-kun nodded far too quickly, as though he desperately needed to grasp onto anything he knew he had done correctly. "Yes! I made sure to clean each-" He hesitated, and Himiko knew exactly why. Saying it out loud was probably weird for him, just like it was for everyone else. "Each bite with warm water and disinfect them with antibiotics. None of them bled much, though, so bandaids weren't needed!"

Mrs. Midoriya scowled, carefully looking between them. Tension filled the air like threads of razor wire, and Himiko was acutely aware of the beating of her heart, a heavy thud that filled the fearful silence in her mind. Eventually, though, the woman just sighed, shaking her head. "I heard everything last night. Maybe not every word, but… enough."

Himiko bit her lip, and she could see Izu-kun in the corner of her eye, a wound up spring about to snap.

"Toga, what you were doing wasn't safe." Her tone was firm, but not cold or harsh.

Himiko tried to swallow her shame, but it was a pointless task, like trying to drink the ocean dry. "... I know."

"And Izuku, the same for you. I…" Mrs. Midoriya turned to her son, pausing to consider her words. "I know what it's like to be young, and in a relationship for the first time. You're experiencing new sensations and desires, and Toga, with a quirk like yours, trying to understand it can be even more confusing. But..."

Himiko could see it in her eyes. Once she learned to see it, it was easy to spot. She was unsure of what to say, as though she was attempting to diffuse a bomb. And Himiko was that bomb.

She had been to Aunt Iku.

To Mrs. Igarashi.

To Dr. Teshima.

And now… Now, to Mrs. Midoriya.

Himiko's heart hurt.

Finally, Mrs. Midoriya continued, more concern in her voice than anything else. "But you need to be aware of what's healthy and safe behavior, both of you. So, some lines have to be drawn. This isn't allowed. Things like this, it's simply safe. Blood can carry diseases, and not to mention, is an important fluid. What would happen if you pierced one of his arteries? Izuku could die."

Himiko nodded, slowly and solemnly. She knew. She had done it before, in a back alley in Nagoya.

There were a few moments of brief silence, as thought the woman was expecting Himiko to respond, to fight back. But she had nothing to say, nothing she could deny. Mrs. Midoriya took a deep breath, steeling herself, before speaking. "Toga, I care about you. I really do. You feel just as much as part of my home as Izuku. But If you're going to become a danger to my household, I have no choice but to return you to the authorities. Regardless of your home situation, I have to protect my family."

A punch in the gut.

That's what it was.

Not because the woman said that she had to protect her family. But because she said that Himiko wasn't part of it.

Of course she wasn't. Just because she lived with them didn't mean that they were. She lived with Aimi; that didn't mean they were family. Aimi most certainly hadn't thought so. Himiko… well, Himiko had just been naive. Too happy to see that she hadn't been truly accepted.

Izu-kun had accepted her. But Mrs. Midoriya hadn't. And she wouldn't.

An overbearing silence filled the room. Izu-knu stared at the table. Mrs. Midoriya stared at Himiko. And Himiko just stared at the ground, unable to force herself to look at anything else.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't force a smile. Not at this.

"... Toga, do you want to go to therapy?"

Izu-kun's head shot up. "Wha-? Mom, you can't-!"

"Izuku, this is a question for Toga. Let her answer it." Mrs. Midoriya spoke simply, stating fact.

Therapy?

… That's what they always tried, wasn't it? As soon as they find out, they conclude she's just a broken little girl that needs to talk it out. Pop a few meds, force a smile, and it would all be okay.

Dr. Teshima. Dr. Nisechiryo. Dr. Daruma. All of them had tried it, slapped fancy words on it. Psychoanalysis, psychodynamic therapy, behavioural therapy, different words, different treatments, same results.

All that was left over was a twisted little girl, an ugly little monster obsessed with blood.

She hated it. She hated it so much. She would give _anything _to be normal, to be 'okay.' But, to go see a psychologist again...

Bronze goggles with green lenses. Wires and tubes. Electricity burning her skin, and drugs fogging her mind. And, above it all, a pudgy man with a bushy mustache, jotting down notes on a clipboard.

No.

There was no way she was going back.

Not to a psychologist.

Not to a doctor.

Not to any hospital, or clinic, or anything!

… She'd somehow fix herself. Somehow. She and Izu-kun would find a way.

She clenched her fists, trying to ignore how much her hands shook. "N-no. I… I don't."

Mrs. Midoriya sighed, but nodded. "Then… I won't send you. But I expect you to follow this house's rules." The woman tried to smile, but it was stretched far too thin, as thin and fake as saran wrap. "Now how about the two of you go get ready? You two need to get to school soon."

"... Uh-huh." Himiko spoke softly, pushing herself up from the table.

Izu-kun accepted her. And that made her happy.

But that was what had made Izu-kun special.

No one else would.

Himiko had been stupid to forget.

)ooOoo(

Attending a new school was nothing new for Himiko. Actually, it had been a pretty regular occurrence for her, at least when she was in foster care. A new foster home, a new school, a new set of people to scare. A vicious cycle, one that always left her alone and ready to move to the next place.

A cycle she was going to break today.

"Do you have all of your books?"

"Uh-huh!"

"Pencil bag?"

"Right here!"

"Lunch?"

"... Oops."

"You don't have your-?!"

"Just kidding, right here!"

"Oh All Might, you gave me a heart attack…"

Himiko gave a fluttery giggle, and ruffled Izu-kun's hair. "Thanks for worrying, but I got all my stuff! I'm a-okay for today!"

Izu-kun smiled back weakly, fumbling with their books as they got off the bus. "That's good, but… can you try and not scare me anymore?"

"Aw, but that's the fun part! How else am I supposed to enjoy myself?" She smiled like a wolf, joining him and dozens of other students on the path to the school. And, just as she always did, she began to dance and twirl around her companion, watching Izu-kun with cat-like eyes as they walked.

"Okay…" Izu-kun sighed, giving in and falling into step with her. He would step to the left or right as she slipped passed, shifting his weight back and forth not unlike how a planet moved to accommodate its moon. He quickly checked to make sure he had all of his things, as though Himiko hadn't seen him do it half a dozen times already, before giving a weary smile. "Let's just make sure today goes well."

"Mm-hm!" Himiko nodded enthusiastically, twirling her bag in one hand as she spun on her heel. More than anything, she wanted today to go well. And… well, even if this morning hadn't been wonderful, she felt things were looking up.

She has to start things off with a smile. That's what Mama had always said, and Himiko agreed. If you go into something expecting it to go poorly, of course it would; Mama had always said that was Papa's biggest problem. He was a kind person, but not an optimistic one. 'The sort of person you want planning for your retirement, but not the one you want entertaining kids,' Mama would say, though Himiko wouldn't agree on that. Papa did a pretty good job with her, after all.

A sweet smile played at Himiko's lips, her mind sifting through memories of her parents as she made her way through the crowd of students. The sky was gray and overcast, with pale snow fluttering down to the ground like white down feathers. The air was chilly, just enough to turn her nose pink, and she wrapped her peach scarf around her tighter. The trees were barren and black, sharp and crisp against the light sky.

She liked it. She knew it wasn't really pretty, and maybe even dreary to most people, but she liked it. When she had lived in Kobe, the weather had never been like this; winters there were warm and wet, with heavy rain and lots of mud. So, Musutafu's black-and-white winter was pretty in its own way, like old pictures in an art gallery. Himiko couldn't help but look around, her eyes prying open every nook and cranny to drink up all of the details.

But no one else really found it interesting. Even to Izu-kun, all of this was just… normal. There was no secret beauty to be found in the details of the place you grew up.

… What hidden art had she been blind to in Kobe? Would she ever know?

Finally, the two of them reached the school. They slipped through the gate, and past the courtyard, quickly entering the school building. As she slipped off her shoes and replaced them with her school ones, a sudden thought came to her mind.

"I've never actually been inside the school. I've only ever been outside."

Izu-kun paused, and picked up his bookbag. "... Huh, you're right. Do you want me to help you find your classroom?"

Want? She snickered, and smiled at him. Of course she did. She wanted to spend the whole day with him. But they had classes to get to, and Himiko was looking forward to that too. "No, thanks though! And, real quick-" She shot forward, giving his ear a soft nibble before stumbling backwards. "-See you at lunch!"

For a few brief moments, she could see his brain trying to process what she had just done. And then it sparked behind his eyes, and his cheeks bloomed red from something other that the winter air. He opened his mouth, closed it, considered his words, and then nervously opened it again. "I-... I love you."

Himiko giggled, a warm and familiar sound, and held her hand behind her back as she slipped down the hall. "I love you too, Mr. Mossy."

With that, she turned on her heel, and collected her thoughts as her cheeks flushed red.

Himiko squeezed her school bag straps, steel in her eyes and a determined smile on her face. Deep breaths, deep breaths. Today was going to be a good day, she knew it. She'd make sure of it.

It didn't take her long to reach her classroom, thanks to the help of a middle-aged teacher with long blond hair. Up a few flights of stairs, past the library, and across from the chemistry lab. It was easy to find; unfortunately, it was also on the opposite side of the school from Izu-kun. But, since they were in different tracks, it was just how it worked.

She pushed the thoughts away and put on her widest smile. Optimism, remember! A good day starts with a good mindset. Pushing open the door to the classroom and poking her head in curiously, Himiko glanced around to see who was there. "Hello?"

The room was mostly empty, with only a few students sitting or talking. But, at the sound of Himiko's voice, one girl looked up and smiled, recognition sparking in her amber eyes. "Oh, you must be Toga Himiko!"

She nodded, and stepped into the room with a friendly smile. "Uh-huh! Great to meet ya!"

"Good to meet you too!" The girl pushed herself up from her desk and crossed the room, extending a hand out to Himiko. "I'm Oshihiki Etsuko, one of the student representatives. If you have any questions, feel free to ask!"

"Thanks!" Himiko gave her classmate's hand an energetic shake, and took a moment to look around. Two dozen wooden desks, a large blackboard at the front. A scattering of students, and a shelf in the back full of textbooks. Aside from a poster with the table of elements on one wall, there was practically nothing distinctive about the room. It was perfectly normal.

Himiko liked it.

The blonde cracked a wide grin, and turned to her amber-eyed friend. "So, where do I sit?"

"Oh, I should've told you that! Right over there, in the second seat from the front." Etsuko chuckled, an embarrassed smile on her face as she tugged at the end of her ponytail. She jerked her head towards one of the seats near the front, near the other door. But then, the girl tossed around a quick glance, before giving a knowing smile and leaning in close. "Good for you, too; you get to sit next to one of your cutest classmates!"

"Oh, really?" Himiko leaned in too, two secret agents exchanging vital information. "Who sits there?"

There were a few moments of silence, the air between the girls tense as the wires of a piano. Himiko felt her face burning, wanting to break into a huge, humorous grin, but she forced her lips into a thin slit. Serious. Coy, and serious. Keep it together, keep it-!

Etsuko pointed at herself, her face marred with a deep scowl. "Me."

She couldn't do it. Himiko burst into laughter, and Etsuko joined in, laughing at the absurdity.

Himiko threw her arms around her new friend, a huge, toothy grin on her face, as she tried to contain her laughter. "I like you! Be careful, if you're too cute, I might bite!"

"Hey, hey! No biting allowed!" Etsuko giggled, returning the girl's hug before pushing away and crossing her arms. The two arms melded together, forming a red, cartoony 'X.' "... Though, you wouldn't be the first that wants to. Boys can try their hardest, but I won't let them! I'm saving for marriage!"

The moment Himiko saw Etsuko's arms morph, her train of thought ground to a halt.

Himiko couldn't believe it.

She had just-

"You can shapeshift too?"

"Huh?" Etsuko cocked her head, letting her arms return to normal. But then she caught up to the change in topic, and her friendly smile returned. "Oh, yeah! It's exhausting, but it makes for a neat little party trick."

Himiko's smile only grew wider. "That's super cute! Like, I've met one or two shapeshifters before, but you're the first one who's the same age as me!" Etsuko was just like her! How did she shapeshift? Was it an extra layer of material, just like Himiko, or was it a different method? Himiko's used a mix of melanophoric and erythrophoric chromatophore cells, like most shapshifters, but unlike most others, her body produced a semi-solid gel instead of having integrated spinaphoric cells. Etsuko at least seemed to use chromatophore cells, but Himiko would have to experiment to determine anything else. Maybe they could work together!

Etsuko gave an amused chuckle, twirling her ponytail around her finger. "We are pretty rare, but I think that just makes us cooler! Do you have a shapeshifter quirk too?"

"Yeah! I-" Himiko froze, the words halfway out her mouth. She had one, but… certainly not a normal one.

Etsuko cocked her head and smiled expectantly, waiting for her to continue.

Should she tell her? She seemed friendly enough, but… Himiko remembered when Aimi had first found out, her mouth curling into a sneer of disgust. Himiko swallowed, her smile slipping off her face. She didn't want to scare the girl off, but…

Every time, it was the same. She wouldn't tell anyone until it was too late. No one would know about her quirk until their blood was slipping down her throat. A twisted cycle of fear and tears, one that always ended with her alone.

Himiko was going to break that cycle, she promised herself that much. And maybe that meant changing the first step. Maybe it meant trusting people to know.

For some reason, she couldn't help but think of Izu-kun, his soft smile and kind green eyes.

'_If I didn't trust you enough to tell you about myself, I didn't have the right to be upset when you didn't trust me.'_

She forced a just-slightly-too-wide smile, not quite able to look Etsuko in the eye as she spoke. "It requires just a bit of someone's blood to do. And then I can transform into them!"

… Was that enough? Was she supposed to mention how she liked blood too? No, that would almost definitely scare her. But what else was she supposed to say? She watched the black haired girl, a nervous light in the blonde's eyes.

"Hm..." Etsuko brought a finder to her chin, an inquisitive frown on her face as she took a seat at her desk. Himiko nervously joined her, careful not to let her smile slip as she sat down in her own chair, but the thudding of her heart did absolutely nothing to help. Finally, the amber-eyed girl cracked a curious smile, and rested her chin in her palms. "That's actually pretty neat! Is it something you have to consciously focus on?"

Himiko stared at the girl, dumbfounded.

It was okay.

It was just… fine.

Etsuko hadn't freaked out, hadn't curled her lip or looked at her funny.

She had just accepted it.

Himiko couldn't wipe the stupid smile off her face even if she wanted to.

The blonde coughed, interrupting her own thoughts as she gave a small shrug. "A little. I can choose to transform, even if I've already drank some blood, but maintaining that form doesn't really require that much focus."

"Tch!" Etsuko clicked her tongue, smiling in a dry way that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm jealous. My ability works completely off of my memory, so if I'm not focusing on my transformation, it just turns back or gets really messed up." She held her hand up as an example, her fingers morphing into various almost-pens, as though it were a picture through a fuzzy lens.

… Off of memory?

If anything, Himiko was the one that was jealous. She could barely imagine it, being able to control it so easily. If Himiko wanted to shapeshift, there was a pound of flesh to pay. But for Etsuko, she just… did.

It was that simple.

No blood, no shame, no score.

Just a normal quirk.

… It hurt to think about. About what Etsuko had, what Himiko didn't. It shouldn't hurt, but it did. Her heart felt like a recently healed muscle, whole for the first time in so long, but still sore and tender to the touch.

She smiled past her pain, ignoring how it tore at her soul. "So, do you not do it a lot?"

"No, I do it pretty normally, it's just really tiring to try and maintain it for a long time." Etsuko continued to fiddled with her had, casually letting it shift between forms. Her eyes lingered over the flowing shapes, before she let out an exasperated sigh and shifted her gaze over to Himiko. "Oh, and trying to transform my whole body! Focusing on so much at once is super hard."

Etsuko shook her head, taking a deep breath to clear her head. But she bit her lip, and continued to focus on her hand, the pens-fingers becoming more and more detailed the harder she focused.

Etsuko's problems seemed so simple. Not because they were easy, but because they were something she could correct. It just took practice, right? In a few years, she should be able to use her quirk with ease, without any of the issues plaguing her now.

That was good.

Yeah...

… Good.

But there was still a pain in her chest, something clutching tightly at her heart. A cold and empty feeling, like an arctic ocean.

Himiko couldn't help but laugh.

Etsuko jumped at the sound, all of her hard work disappearing in a brief instant. She glanced over at Himiko, a friendly and curious light in her warm eyes. "What's so funny?"

What was so funny? Nothing, really. But Himiko plastered that smile on her face again, drank down that syrup. "Nothing! I'm just happy to meet another shapeshifter!"

"Me too!" Estuko smirked, and gave an approving thumbs-up. "But, do you do it often? You said you needed blood to do it."

"Ah-" Himiko opened her mouth, but paused. Often? No, not really. But, drink blood..? She reached up, rubbing her sore shoulders and neck. "Well, not often. Don't wanna hurt anyone!"

Etsuko nodded in understanding. "Yeah, that makes sense. Your quirks sounds like it could be dangerous. Then again, I can't really imagine it's a pleasant quirk to use in the first place, having to drink blood and all."

Himiko's smile stretched, becoming tighter rather than wider. Everyone thought that. And when they found out that she didn't mind, they called her a freak. But… Well, give it time.

Himiko needed to trust her. And, even if that didn't mean telling her immediately, it meant trusting her to understand eventually.

Things would get better. Himiko just had to believe they would.

Suddenly, Etsuko looked towards the front. "Oh, here's the teacher!"

Himiko looked up too, just to see a tall woman in a button down and slacks enter the room. Etsuko flashed a smile, and Himiko returned it, silently knowing it was time to focus.

School.

Class.

… That was an odd feeling. It had felt like an eternity since the last time she had it. Even her clothing felt off, wearing a school uniform for the first time in ages. Himiko reached up, pulling off her jacket and shoving her scarf into her desk.

Etsuko glanced over, catching sight of her neck before giving the girl a concerned look. "Hey, what's that on your-..."

"Hm?" Himiko turned to her new friend, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Etsuko paused, but then forced a smile. "No, it's nothing."

… Okay then.

Himiko shrugged, turning back to the front.

Here she was, at school number nine.

The only one she'd ever attend with Izu-kun.

**A/N: *a pile of cardboard boxes shuffles***

***Shuffles***

***A hand pops out, dragging a body with it***

**I'M ALIVE!**

**Ok, first and foremost, I'm super sorry for being this late! These past few weeks have been hectic, and the next few are going to be as well. I'll try to update when I can, but for the next few weeks, I can't make any guarantees. (sadly)**

**Regardless, here's this chapter! Hope ya enjoyed!**

**With only the worst of intentions,**

**Imp the Nefarious**

**FFN:**

**Alviniju: I love the speculation on themes! Now, I ain't gonna comment on what they are; theme can be interpreted differently for each and every person. But, I will say two things: first, I love your interpretation. How hero society worked, and the impact it had on non-heroes always made me think. And, second, I **_**am **_**writing with a theme in mind. How you understand it is up to you, but each main character does have an arch and a theme.**

**Arsinis: Thanks! Yeah, it is a bit kinky, I suppose. Hopefully not too much. And hopefully not too angsty; I have no subtlety nor tact, most of the time. But, This story is going to broach some sensitive topics, and not just limited to the long term effects of things like conversion therapy. Of course, while these are important topics to me, I can't claim to have experienced many of them (thank the lord), so definitely point it out if I'm being insensitive, mishandling it, or am just flat out wrong on a factual basis. I want to make a good story, and one that makes ya think about the world.**

**Lord Asmodeus: I'm sorry, I'm still new to this! Would PM's be better for everyone? And who prefers the current system? I'll use whichever one is more preferred. There's also my discord, which you can find in my profile page. **

**Malsyn: Yeah, I wasn't expecting it either! When I started writing this first arc, I was thinking "man, this is gonna be the most boring arc... like, emotionally important, but **_**nothing's **_**happening. Better burn through this fast!" Skip forward a few weeks, and… well, now we're here. When I started planning this, I never imagined it would be this long, but I kinda just went with it.**


	17. Chapter 17

Himiko shuffled in her school chair, her pen travelling over paper as she not-quite listened to her teacher's lecture.

The chair wasn't nearly as comfortable as it looked, at least, not after the sparkly sensation of being new wore off. It was stiff and hard, a blocky wooden seat, and the uniform was just as bad! The winter uniform was too tight, the black coat feeling like a straitjacket and the tie feeling like a noose. After so long of wearing her cardigan, or Izuku's tracksuit when she could get away with it, the stiff and scratchy button down was driving her nuts.

… If she stabbed someone, could she go home early?

She took a moment to consider it, before snickering and shaking her head. She still had to graduate and go to high school, and that wouldn't happen if she was kicked out. And besides, there was only one person she wanted to stab, and she wasn't seeing him until lunch.

Himiko sighed, the humorous grin still on her face as she settled her chin in her palm. Let's see, the teacher was talking about… body systems. Right.

Basic biology.

Easy enough.

A low groan escaped her lips, and she slouched forward, practically laying across her desk.

Yes, she knew what the circulatory system was! She had known what it was for years! And now, she was forced to sit at an uncomfortable desk, in an uncomfortable uniform, forced to listen to droning lectures she already understood for hours!

Would she be able to get away with reading under her desk? Probably not. Sleeping? She was at the front of the room, so almost definitely not. Drawing? Probably not any more than the doodles she was already tracing.

Himiko didn't even know why she had wanted to come back to school. Not to learn anything, that's for sure. Her classes were a breeze.

… Ok, that was a lie. Her Japanese grade could use some cleaning up, and so could her English. It didn't help that she was awful at studying, even with Izu-kun's help. She tried her hardest, but she just couldn't focus. Studying the weird mess that made up English just didn't interest her one bit, and Japanese literature from seven-hundred-whatever CE was just about as fascinating to her.

… Anyways, she was passing _these _classes with ease. Biology, physics, math, even her geography class was easy. Her tests never came back below a 98, and her work sheets were easy enough, even without the textbook. So she didn't know why on earth she had to sit through these pointless lectures!

She loved how normal school was, but it was just so _boring_.

The school bell rang through the air, a sharp and shrill sound, and Himiko sighed in relief, her forehead meeting her desk with a stiff _thud_. "Finallyyyy..."

Etsuko chuckled, closing her textbook and slipping it back into her desk. "Having a good time?"

Himiko twiddled with her pencil, pouting as she halfheartedly tried to balance it on her nose. "... No…"

"I was guessing not. You were twitching all class, looked like you were bored out of your mind." The amber-eyed girl rolled her shoulders, taking a moment to stand and stretch before sending a teasing glace her friend's way. "It was actually kinda fun to watch."

"It's just so boring!" Himiko's pencil clattered to the floor, the blonde throwing her arms up in defeat. If she had another three years of this in high school, she'd go insane! How on earth did Izu-kun do _this_, and then show up for practice, ready for more? No, how had _she _done this, even a year ago? She groaned, giving her muscles a moment to unwind. Her sunflower eyes followed the other students as they headed to lunch, and the girl scowled inquisitively. "... Do you think I could get away with skipping class?"

"This close to qualification exams?" Etsuko raised an eyebrow and laughed, giving Himiko a playful smirk. "Only if you like gambling! And besides, what're you gonna do anyways?"

"Hm…" Himiko put a finger on her chin, blinking lazily. What would she do? Something more interesting, at least. She'd probably end up in the library, or maybe the mall. Ah, no, not the mall. It's boring to go alone, so she'd want to take Izu-kun or Etsuko if she went. But then, an idea popped into her head, and she couldn't resist a snicker. "Find someone cute to munch on? It's been a while since I had a good makeover!"

"Oh, trying to impress a certain green-haired someone?" Etsuko gave a sly smile, a knowing light in her amber eyes. Holding a few fingers together in a 'v' shape, they melded and morphed, transforming into two simply doll-like figures kissing, one with a messy bush of seaweed green on its head, and the other with two big balls of blond.

"Maaaybe. Or maybe I could get a bite of him. I don't think he'll mind!" A large, hot blush spread across Himiko's cheeks, a bit of fire lingering beneath her cheeks as she cracked a big smile. She looked like a lovesick cherry wearing a blond wig, and she knew it. What she didn't know was whether the blush was from her friend's teasing, or from the very thought of Izu-kun.

… Would Izu-kun want her to look different? Something tugged at the back of her mind, small and quiet, but it dug in more the more she tried to ignore it. He had said he liked her the way she was, even the little oddities like her smile. He wasn't the type to lie; he couldn't even if he tried. But he was also the soft type that would never say something to hurt her, even if he thought it. So… he could just be _not _saying anything. She wouldn't be surprised, in some ways. He might like a totally different type of girl, but since he was so lonely, he was just, well… settling for her, simply put. It made the most sense. After all, no one else had accepted her before, and no one else had met her on the ledge of a fourteen story building. She wasn't his first choice, she was his only option. If there was any comfort in that, he wasn't going to abandon her.

Not until someone better showed up.

Despite her smile, there was a bitter taste in the back of her throat.

"Yeah, gotta make sure to get a taste! Take it for a spin before you buy it!" Etsuko laughed, letting her fingers twist back into their natural form. Then she paused for a moment, a curious light in her warm eyes as she fiddled with her long ponytail. "Actually, have you ever transformed into Midoriya before?"

"Huh? Oh, well..." Himiko shook herself out of her head, her eyes glancing back towards her friend. Focus! Everything's ok, Izu-kun would never abandon her. He had promised. He liked her how she was, and had said as much! So focus on here and now! She grinned, feeling just a bit of the tightness leave her chest. "Yeah, I have! And guess how he reacted!"

"Yeah?"

"He panicked!" The blond raised her hand to her mouth and laughed, her smile growing wider at the thought of fond memories. "He just looks up and, _ta da_! There's a second Izu-kun! It was sooo adorable, just watching his mind scramble!"

Her friend silently snickered, her head rocking back and forth. "I can definitely imagine him panicking! You're so cruel! Did you not explain your quirk to him before that?"

"Nope!" She gave a toothy smile, far too wide to be innocent. "But that just made his reaction even cuter."

Etsuko clicked her tongue, shaking her head in disbelief. "Man… You're awful. I'm just glad he's so understanding, cause I know for a fact I would've kicked you out then and there." She glanced over, and caught sight of the paper on Himiko's desk. "By the way, what's that you were drawing all class?"

"Hm? Oh, sure!" She plucked up her sheet of doodles, passing it over to her friend. Etsuko was right. That would've pushed some people over the edge, let alone the other things she'd done. So… she was lucky. Really lucky. And it made her smile, actually. Not only had he had opportunities to kick her out, but plenty of reasons too. And yet, he hadn't. She felt a small blush coming on, the soft and warm sort that felt like her heart was sighing. "Izu-kun wouldn't do that. He's my little wolf, after all!"

… There was no response.

Himiko glanced up, her eyebrows furrowed a bit. "Etsu-chan?"

The thin girl half-sat on her desk, a worried frown on her face as her eyes scanned over the sheet, any warmth replaced by cold concern. She lowered the sheet, holding it where they both could see.

"Himi-chan... What is this?"

"Hm?" Leaning forward, Himiko cocked her head. What had she drawn? She hadn't been paying attention. Actually, she hadn't really been paying attention to anything that class. But it couldn't have been-

Oh.

Oh no.

She recognized it the moment she saw it. And she wished she hadn't.

It was a drawing. Any more specific, and the connotations wouldn't be correct. As accurate as a scientific diagram, but with too much emotion. As heartfelt as renaissance painting, but too cold and detailed. It fell into a strange uncanny valley of art, not quite an expression of her soul, but also not quite purely factual.

But it was entirely disturbing, and all to familiar.

… Kichi. That's her name. Wait, no. That _was _her name. A girl that Himiko had met, when she had been on her own. Cute, with short hair and the purest smile. She was absolutely adorable. Himiko had had such a large crush on her, but that felt like it had been an eternity ago.

But the picture was true to life, and true to her fate. Splayed across the ground, her limbs slack and her head twisted unnaturally. Bruises, cuts, stabs, and bite marks. So many bite marks, little dots peppering her body in clusters of four. And, overlaid on her body, dozens of veins and arteries, labelled and named.

It looked more like a photograph than a graphite sketch, a photograph Himiko didn't need to see. One she had never wanted to see. She had made mistakes. She knew that. But now she had Izu-kun, and Etsuko, and a normal life. She… she had just wanted to put all of this behind her. But old habits die hard. She had scared Aimi with her drawings, and Mrs. Igarashi too. The only difference now was that she had reference material to use.

"Carotid artery… Ulnar Artery… Common femoral vein…" Etsuko scowled, shooting Himiko a concerned look. "What on earth did you draw?"

There was a line. There was a line Himiko would not cross. She would tell her friend about her quirk, about her relationship with Izu-kun, maybe even her family. But not this. There was no way she could explain this. She couldn't explain it and keep her new home.

Not even to Izu-kun.

She ignored the twisted knot in her stomach, and forced a smile. "It's the human circulatory system, obviously!"

"Look at how much detail you put in it… it's crazy." Etsuko's eyes shifted from the picture to the blonde, and then back to the picture, filled with concern. She ran her fingers over the page, straightening it to get a better look as her friend shifted uncomfortably. Etsuko pointed at the labeled veins, and Himiko could see the gears shifting behind her eyes. "But, what're these for? Is there a pattern or something?"

A pattern? Himiko took a nervous glance, looking over the veins and arteries. They were all deep veins, the sort that could kill a person if punctured. That was obvious. Other than that, she couldn't see…

Oh, no.

No, there was a pattern.

They weren't just deep veins. They were the deep veins that were the most accessible.

The deep veins that were the easiest to kill someone with.

She let out a lighthearted giggle, a wide, tightlipped smile on her face. "Just some of the major deep veins!"

"Huh… Ok." Etsuko looked her up and down, and there was a tense silence, as though she had questions she knew she couldn't ask. But, eventually, she handed the paper back to Himiko, and jerked her head towards the door. "Well, let's get to lunch. You're gonna eat with me and the other's today, right?"

"Hm? Oh, I was planning to eat with-" Himiko began to decline her friend's offer, but the pleading look in Etsuko's gaze gave her pause. Shaking her head, Himiko gave in. "Yep!"

"Finally!" Etsuko pushed her chair in, and the two left the classroom, making their way down the somewhat crowded hallway. "You've been spending all your free time with Midoriya, and I've been wanting to introduce you to some of my friends from the other classes."

"Of course I eat with him!" Himiko defended herself, slipping around Etsuko as she fell into her typical lopsided walk. "I have to make time for my Izu-kun!"

Etsuko laughed, working around her friend's unusual walking habits. "Himi-chan, you literally live with him!"

The two chuckled, making their way towards the school courtyard as they chatted. But, beneath the casual conversation, Himiko's stomach was twisting itself into knots.

Himiko remembered it. She remembered it far too clearly. How Kichi screamed when Himiko bit her, how she struggled as Himiko buried the knife in the girl's flesh. The feeling of slicing open her veins, the heat of her blood on Himiko's skin. The salty tears and iron blood. And, above all, the pleasure.

It had felt amazing.

Beyond amazing.

Beyond what she had felt with Izu-kun.

… Would Izu-kun say no? Mrs. Midoriya didn't want her to, but… Himiko wasn't part of her family anyway. The woman probably wouldn't trust her no matter what. It hurt to know that, but it was true. So, really, it was just a matter of keeping it secret. If she were to ask Izu-kun, if she were to take a knife to his flesh, would he say no?

Her heart thud in her chest.

Imagine it. Imagine Izu-kun, screaming in pain. Thrashing back and forth, begging for her to stop, begging for more. Cold steel and hot blood, purple bruises and tear stained cheeks. If only she could-

No! Bad Himiko! Bad! She internally slapped herself, but didn't let it show through her friendly smile. What if Mrs. Midoriya found out? Or what if she pushed Izu-kun too far? What would she do then? Kill them and move on, just like every other time!?

… No. No, she couldn't. She didn't want to lose her home. It was a weak thought, a small, quiet type that she didn't even want to think of as a possibility. She wanted to pretend that it was out of the picture, that after so long, she had a chance to simply live without the constantly looming threat of abandonment. But she couldn't lie to herself. She wasn't going to lie anymore, not to Izu-kun, not to Etsuko, not to anyone.

… Not any more than she needed to.

Just don't think about all that. Live in the moment. Move on. If everything was okay from here on out, that was enough. She laughed, a harsh, tinny sound, but real enough to fit into her normal, friendly conversation, and loud enough to distract the blonde from her thoughts.

Taking a step outside, Himiko followed her friend outside, meandering across the large stretch of flat concrete. The courtyard itself was nice in the late afternoon; grey snow was settled on the ground, pushed into piles at the corners, and the pale white sun shone bright in the clear february sky. Groups of students milled about, some chatting and eating, others tossing around a basketball on the court. In some ways, Himiko was surprised that Izu-kun wasn't with them; half the time, he spent his free time at school shooting hoops with his classmates. Maybe he was in his classroom; he'd spend time there too, reading news articles he'd be sure to share with her later.

Himiko giggled to herself, looking forward to today's modern events' update.

"So, here we are." Coming to a stop at a table with two other girls, Etsuko dramatically threw open her arms, a car salesman attempting to entice a potential customer. "Everyone, this is Himi-chan, the new girl in my class! I thought you might want to meet her, so I brought her to lunch!"

One girl, with a set of dark brown pigtails and a round, friendly face gave a huge, welcoming wave, the dramatic sort one might use greet an old friend from the other side of the parking lot. Followed by an enthusiastic smile, she scooted on the bench, giving Himiko plenty of space to sit. "Yo! I'm Akahana!"

"Hiya! It's great to meet ya!" Himiko returned the overzealous wave, plopping down beside her, before turning to the other girl. "And you?"

"'Sup. Name's Kiyo." The other girl spoke rather coldly in comparison to Akahana, but there was still a distinct friendliness in her half-mumbled words. She lacked the explosive energy of her brown-haired friend, a set of chopsticks halfway in her scowling mouth and a critical eyebrow quirked. Her straight black hair fell down to her narrow shoulders, and her pupils were so large that her red irises practically didn't exist.

Himiko opened her mouth to respond, but was almost immediately interrupted by Akahana tapping on her shoulder. "So, so, where are you from?"

"Hm?" Himiko turned to the smaller girl while Etsuko made her way around the table, joining Kiyo on the other side. "Oh, I'm originally from Kobe, but I've moved around a lot. I'm hoping to stay here for a while though!"

The girl nodded in understanding, clicking her chopsticks together as she turned back to her lunchbox. "I actually moved around a lot too as a kid, but my family finally got to settle down here. Did your family move here for work?"

"No, not for work. I moved here on my own." Himiko struggled to keep up, completely unprepared for such a sudden conversation. This girl talked ridiculously fast, like a movie playing at double speed. How was she so casual about this? It was as though Himiko was just a returning pal, rather than someone Akahana had met for the first time, and it made Himiko's head spin. As normal as this was, Himiko had no idea how people did it. But most of the time, people didn't talk to her at all, so that wasn't really a surprise. She'd figure it out.

"Ooh, wow!" Akahana took a bit of rice, but kept talking anyways, chatting through a mouthful of food. "You live alone?"

"No, I live with some family friends. They actually made me this lunch today!" Opening her lunch box, she took a moment to look over the contents. Rice, some boiled vegetables… Oh, some little hot dogs cut up to be cute little squids! Himiko smiled eagerly, raising her chopsticks. Too bad she wasn't eating with Izu-kun, he loved them.

Etsuko swallowed down her food, and laughed out loud. "Not just some family friends, mind you. She moved in with her boyfriend."

Kiyo glanced up from her food, a dry smile growing on her face. "I smell gossip. Story, please?"

"Ah, well…" Himiko paused, a wide grin on her face as she considered her words. "When I moved here, I moved in with a family with a son my age, and cute! Really cute. Like, he just has the kindest smile, and eyes that twinkle like big green stars, and-"

"Oh, you got her started." Etsuko cut in, wearing an exasperated smile as she shook her head."She could go on like this for hours."

Kiyo made a sound halfway between an amused grunt and a low chuckle, her dark eyes lingering on the blonde. "So, who's prince charming?"

Etsuko snicker. "You're not gonna believe it."

Glancing between the two chattering girls, Akahana cocked her head. "Well, who is it?"

Etsuko looked over to Himiko, silently asking if it was okay for her to tell. Well, Himiko wasn't ashamed. And besides, if Etsuko didn't tell them, the blonde would! She nodded enthusiastically, giving her friend the okay.

Etsuko jerked her head over to the basketball court, where a tall blond guy was making a shot. "Midoriya. The one in Bakugo's class."

Akahana laughed in disbelief. "Wait, really?!"

Himiko giggled nervously, feeling her cheeks heat up. "Yep! He's my little Izu-kun!"

Kiyo merely grunted, raising her eyebrows as she casually raised another bite of food to her mouth. "Huh, color me surprised. I don't really see him too often, but he never struck me as one to date. Or, if he did, probably someone a bit more…" She paused, her food just centimeters away from her lips as her cold gaze traveled over Himiko. "... subdued?"

"You'd be surprised! He can get pretty wild when it's just me and him…" Himiko averted her eyes, an almost shy smile on her face as she ran her tongue over her canines. If you only knew him on the surface, then all Izuku was was a nervous, nerdy kid. But Himiko had dug a bit deeper, and had found his potential. She had barely touched it, but it was already so much more than she had found in anyone else. He hadn't just let her bite him. He didn't _just_ understand her. He had bit back, an animal driven by passion just like herself. They were birds of a feather, and only she knew that. That thought alone made her heart beat a bit faster.

"Wait, is he where you got your-" Etsuko looked over, confused, before a light of sudden understanding came to her eyes. "Oh, n-never mind!"

"But, why did you want to date him? He seems kinda depressed all the time, and I wouldn't be able to handle that negativity in my life!" Akahana gave a teasing grin, bumping shoulders with Himiko.

"Hm…" The blonde playfully bumped her back, before resting her chin in her palm. Why did she decide to date him? There's a lot of answers for that. He was cute and childish, but oddly mature. His hair was soft and fluffy, and his smile was unbearably pure. He saw every injustice, no matter how large, as his personal responsibility, and cared about others so much more than himself. But, if she had to choose... "It's because he's so understanding. We're all a bit strange, but he doesn't see that as bad! And I think that's just so sweet!"

"Well, of course we're all a bit strange. We all have our…" Akahana paused, grinning slyly and looking Kiyo dead in the eye. "... _quirks._"

While Etsuko and Himiko laughed, Kiyo just groaned, pinching her nose. "You and your puns. You'd make an amazing father, you know that?"

At that, Akahan groaned too, losing just a bit of her eccentric energy. "Oh, don't make me think about kids. I just had to babysit my little brother last night, and it was chaos! He's learning to control his quirk, but that just means he's _intentionally _setting the drapes on fire!"

Etsuko and Kiyo laughed at Akahana's misfortune, and Himiko couldn't help but join in, the exasperation on the girl's face just too much to _not _laugh at. Himiko couldn't imagine taking care of a kid, let alone one with a powerful quirk. Then again, the idea of having a kid did appeal to her… a little family of her own. Would her kid have gold eyes like her own, or green ones like Izu-kun? And what about their hair? Well, if nothing else, their quirk would probably come from Himiko's side…

Himiko could feel the stupid grin on her face, but she didn't mind. Either way, having a family was years away. She would have to go through university first, both her and Izu-kun. They'd figure everything out after that.

Akahana pouted, an adorable scowl on her face, but it quickly disappeared when she turned to Himiko. "Oh, speaking of quirks, what's yours? I can store electricity in my body, and release it when I want."

'_And I'm a telepath.' _Kiyo didn't move a muscle, still chewing her food, but her voice reverberated through Himiko's mind._ 'Etsu-chan, please remember that while you fantasize. I don't want any more X-rated thoughts during math class.'_

Etsuko only averted her eyes, but Himiko stared in horror. She can read thoughts? Had she heard everything Himiko had been thinking? Can she read them right now? Are you hearing this?

Kiyo's only response was a dry smile. _'I'm kidding. It's one-way. I can't read your mind.'_

Himiko silently sighed in relief, but Etsuko snickered, rolling her eyes. The amber-eyed girl plucked up a slice of egg, placing it in her mouth. "Oh thank god, I thought you caught me."

Akahana laughed, a lighthearted sound. "We don't need to be mind readers to tell who you like! You stare a lot!"

Kiyo laughed too, but it was a darker, coyer sound. "Who would've guessed that you of all people would like him. But, then again. you've always had a thing for buff blonds."

Etsuko choked on the egg, her face blossoming red. She fidgeted for a moment, before finally swallowing the food and sputtering out a response. "A-anyway, Himi-chan, you were going to say what your quirk was?"

The conversation was suddenly passed to Himiko, who, with her chopsticks in her mouth, was about as prepared as Izu-kun was the first time she jumped on him. Her quirk? Was she really going to tell them now? Like, At least Etsuko was a shapeshifter too, but she had just met them, and… No, no 'ands,' 'ifs' or 'buts.' She was going to have a normal life. And she was going to start by being as honest as possible. She coughed, a casual smile on her face. "I'm a shapeshifter, just like Etsu-chan. I just need to drink a bit of someone's blood, and it allows me to transform into them."

Akahana twiddled with her chopsticks, taking a moment to think about it. "Huh, interesting. Does it have to be blood?"

The nonchalant response took Himiko off guard. Most people were disgusted by it, but Akahana and the others just seemed surprised, as if she had said her quirk was something pointlessly specific like 'my left thumb turns blue every full moon.' Himiko tried to hide her amazement, and quickly regained her momentum. "Yeah, only blood. I've tried other things, such as hair, but it doesn't work. But, the more I drink, the longer I can maintain their form."

Kiyo hummed in understanding, cradling her chin in one hand. "I see. What about animals, or objects?"

"I can't transform into objects; no genetic material! But animals…" She took a moment to consider, drawing on old memories. "I tried once, when I was younger. It was a little birdie. I actually managed to change to the color of the bird's feathers, but nothing beyond that. I think there wasn't enough matching genetic material, since birds and humans are so different."

Kiyo and Akahana scowled, but while Akahana's was one of concern, Kiyo's was one of curiosity. The more subdued girl drummed her fingers against her jaw, a question lingering on her tongue. "So… what's it like?"

"Hm?" Himiko cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

The girl shrugged, as though the question was self evident. "Well, I haven't met many that have a quirk that relies on blood. Well, none at all, really. I've heard of a few heroes that _use _blood, but even then, there was only one near… Osaka or Kobe, I think, that actually had to ingest it. And, it sounds like you've used your quirk on at least a semi-regular basis. So… how does it feel?"

That was a difficult question. What was she supposed to say? 'Oh, it tastes great, want to try it sometime?' That would go over great, Himiko was sure of it.

… But, maybe. Not that bluntly, but that openly. Etsuko had shown that she would accept a lot of things about Himiko, and she seemed to trust these two. And, in fact, Kiyo seemed pretty open minded too. Himiko could see it in the girl's large eyes, a genuine sense of curiosity. It wasn't all that different from Izu-kun's, actually, that desire to understand the world better. So… it was worth a shot. Just be honest. She took a deep breath.

"It's…" She giggled nervously before continuing, not quite able to look Kiyo in the eye. "It'll sound strange to you, but it feels good!"

"Wait, legit?" Akahana gaped. "I can't imagine it!"

"Yeah! Like syrup, sweet and hot on my tongue! Oh, it's impossible to describe!" The words started to come out easier, wild enthusiasm starting to leak into her voice.

Out of the corner of her eye, Himiko caught sight of Etsuko, who was tense with shock. Had she said something wrong? She had definitely said something wrong! She was probably being too happy about it. But it made her happy, so why was that wrong? She wanted to stop, but her mouth just kept moving, the truth spilling out.

"And not just the blood! Have you ever bit someone?"

Oh god, Akahana was horrified, she could see it in the girl's stare. Her smile felt too wide, like someone had torn her jaw from her face, and then tried to pop it back in.

"Tasted their skin, felt it tearing under your teeth? It's the best part, feeling their body jerk as their blood slips past your lips!"

She needs to stop talking! But what was she supposed to say? What could she do to transition out of this? She looked over to Kiyo, and saw a tinge of fear in her concerned eyes.

"It's addictive, and-" She suddenly stopped, her mouth half open. Looking around, she took a deep breath, letting her smile fall. Ducking her head a bit, she didn't look at anyone, chewing on her lip. "... And, yeah, that's… that's how it feels."

The silence was thick enough to cut, and toxic enough to burn. A few kids shouted, passing the basketball back and forth, but not a single one of the girls spoke. Himiko had messed up. Bad. Look at their faces, the way they were trying to look at each other without making eye contact. Trying to tell each other something without Himiko hearing.

She knew that look. She had seen it everywhere in middle school, and on the faces of most adults. Shock, disgust, the look of someone who didn't know how to say anything nice, so they decided not to say anything at all.

There went her chance.

She internally kicked herself.

Wasted!

Squandered!

'Be honest.' That's what she told herself. She put her faith in honesty, as though lying had caused all of her issues. But she had forgotten one key thing.

Just because a freak was honest didn't make people like them.

Etsuko's uncomfortable laugh broke the uncomfortable silence. "Well, to each their own, right? Just don't go killing people, okay?"

Himiko flinched, but forced a smile. "Y-yeah. It feels good, but I don't wanna hurt anyone!"

Etsuko tried to restart the conversation, but even then, it was quieter than before. They all wanted to talk, but none of them knew what to say. Himiko just sighed, trying to hide in plain sight.

She wasn't cute. She knew that. Her friends, as few as they were, were always cuter than her, always prettier. She had tried to copy Aimi's style to a T; her clothes, her makeup, her cute little way of speaking and the little gestures she made. She watched the same blogs, read the same articles, shopped at the same stores.

It hadn't worked.

Aimi's little laugh made her approachable; Himiko's sounded like an insane mouse.

Aimi's makeup was carefully applied in detail; Himiko's was an untrained artist's canvas.

Aimi's cute style refined her beauty; Himiko's was a poorly fitted mask.

And since then, nothing had changed. That mask, she could fit it over her face, and drink the syrup to make it bearable, but it did nothing to change the monster that loomed underneath. Her newly established routine had proven that, the cracks in her facade beginning to shine through as the freak within shifted and struggled to get comfortable.

… She would fix it. Himiko would look normal, sound normal, _be _normal. That way, she could have a normal life, be part of normal society, without tearing herself apart. So she wouldn't be judged, she wouldn't be the skeleton in the closet. She could have friends, have a job, go to school and chat and smile and not feel like she lived behind a glass pane.

First, she'd fix the hellish quirk that hid in her genes. Make it a normal quirk, one that she could control. One that she could use without becoming, as Aunt Iku would say, 'a demon child.'

And then… and then she'd fix herself. Dye her hair black. Learn how to actually use makeup. Wear contacts, maybe even change her pupil shape if she could. And she'd stop drinking blood. She'd never bite another person. Never tear into their flesh, never commit that sin again. She would be norm-

'_Is it weird that I like the biting more?'_

… Oh Izu-kun, why did he have to say that? It was wrong. Everyone else agreed. Aunt Iku, the doctors, Mrs. Midoriya. But Mr. Mossy just had to say that, had to give his soft little smile and tell her exactly what she wanted to hear. Exactly what she didn't need to hear.

She hated herself. She hated herself so much. She hated that she couldn't be normal, as much as she wanted it. She hated that she'd never be able to feel like 'part of a group,' because she was always the odd one out. She hated her quirk, her teeth, her hair, her eyes. She hated everything that defined her.

But Izu-kun loved it.

Life was too hard.

)ooOoo(

The moment Izuku saw Himiko, he knew something was wrong. Not only had it taken him almost an hour to find her, she wasn't smiling.

"So, if you were to look at quirks, there are three types: emitter, transformation, and mutation."

"Uh-huh! We learned that in grade school. My quirk is a transformation quirk."

Well, that wasn't right. She had been smiling, but it wasn't _her _smile. It was a small, pleasant smile, calm and subtle and not at all Himiko. It looked like someone photoshopped one of his classmates' smiles over Himiko's much more lively one.

"Yeah, and Mom's is an emitter, while Backdraft has a mutation quirk."

"Backdraft?"

"Oh, a local hero who has water spickets instead of hands. He usually helps the fire department, and- and anyways, some experts divide mutation quirks into two smaller types, human and inhuman mutation quirks."

It unnerved him, but he couldn't quite explain why. He knew something was wrong, but he didn't know how, let alone _what_. She had been standing there at the end of the hallway, just like she had been every day, waiting for him so that they could walk home together. She greeted him in her excited, over energetic puppy way. She gave him a big hug, completely ignoring both everyone else and standard social etiquette. But something was still off.

"Human mutation quirks are like the ones you have; extended canines, slit pupils, physical changes that are more like 'additions' rather than a total transformation."

It was that everything was… subdued. She wasn't circling him in a happy dance, but rather, just spinning in low orbit. Her hug seemed to be one of relief, not excitement. And, above all, she wasn't speaking. Not really. She had been talking a lot, but she hadn't said anything.

So, he did the only thing he knew how to: talk. Talk and talk and talk, so maybe Himiko could work whatever was wrong out of her system. Really, what was coming out of his mouth didn't matter; an article he had read earlier, one that he had found interesting. The important part was that it filled the air, that it said 'everything is normal.' Because, if he acted like everything was normal, it might give Himiko enough space to think everything was okay.

… That was the theory, at least.

"But then, there are inhuman mutation quirks, which are total overhauls of your body; imagine heroes like Cementoss." Izuku made his way down the hallway, Himiko closely circling him as they made their way out of the near-empty school building, many of the students have long since left. With one hand clutching his notebooks, the other was making hand gestures that no one but him and the local linguistics professor might understand, and his eyes seemed to be glancing between Himiko and the invisible notes written on his shoes. "Now, experts have found a really interesting pattern: people with inhuman mutation quirks are _four _times more likely than those with human mutation quirks to become villains, and _six_ times more likely than those with transformation or emitter quirks. These numbers aren't random, they're a trend, and it's fascinating!"

"Hm." Himiko put a finger to her chin, that small smile still lingering on her face. "Why is that? Did the article you read say?"

Izuku opened his mouth to respond, but then took a moment to think, his finger hanging in the air. "No, actually. It talked about the effects on the inhuman quirk community, but it didn't say why it was like this." He raised his hand to his mouth, his eyes becoming distinctly focused on the ground in front of him.

Why would that be? There were plenty of things happening to people with mutation quirks, another article mentioned they had lower income than people with other types of quirks. And the Equalist Party discussed issues about it too; the party head himself had a mutation quirk. The party's base of support came almost exclusively from the quirkless and those with mutation quirks, and that made sense. But, why did these trends even exist? All people, regardless of quirks, were equal under law; it had been like that for decades. So-

Himiko giggled, interrupting Izuku's thoughts. But is was tinged with… sadness? Izuku couldn't quite put his finger on it. "W-what is it?"

"Oh, you're just muttering again." She spoke with an odd happiness in her voice, something that felt almost artificial. "You're really strange, just like me."

Izuku furrowed his eyebrows, pushing through the door to the school courtyard. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, nooothing," she lulled, stopping just outside the door. Her head rocked to one side, and her eyes travelled upwards, following a passing winter cloud. For a brief moment, she was unnaturally silent, her smile melting away as the light in her eyes died. "There's nothing wrong with being strange, right?"

"Huh?" Izuku paused, standing a pace away from her. He scowled, soft concern in his eyes, and worry weighing down his stomach. Where had this come from? She looked so… rejected. Empty, even. He had started seeing that look since she started school, and it hurt to look at. Like a puppy, the energetic and playful sort, shoved into a tiny kennel. Nowhere to go, nothing to do. She was… trapped. But Izuku had no idea by what. He coughed, squeezing his notebooks tighter and looking away. "I-I mean, no, not really. Everyone is special in their own way, I think."

Himiko's eyes didn't move from the cloud, watching it lazily slide and twist across the pale blue sky. But her lips flickered, making a small smile, far weaker than the one from before, but somehow more real. "... Good."

Izuku looked between her and the cloud, trying to understand. Of course it was okay to be strange. Think outside the box, and do what you're best at. That's what she had been telling him through his entire training, so why on earth would she be asking him?

"Hey," Izuku spoke up, forcing an enthusiastic grin, and Himiko let her head roll in his direction. "Let's get going. We still have training, remember?"

She nodded, turning to him. "Okay, let's-"

"Deku!" A shout took the two off guard, along with the scrape of a door being thrown open and an unmistakable growl. "Get your ass over here!"

Izuku whipped around, instantly knowing who it was, while Himiko turned more casually, spinning on one heel. Stomping towards him was a tall blond, an angry scowl on his face and his fists clenched.

Oh no.

"Who's this?" Himiko glanced back, seemingly more curious than anything. She didn't even seemed surprised, let alone phased, nonchalantly balancing on her heels.

Who was this? How was he supposed to explain in the few brief moments he had? He might as well try to describe the entire process of brain surgery while he was at it, that was about as easy! Looking between a quickly approaching Katsuki and a questioning Himiko, Izuku struggled to find his words. "Oh, uh, this is Katsuki, he's a-"

"Deku, what were you pulling back there?!" Izuku didn't even get a chance to finish, with his classmates quickly closing the distance between them. Himiko took a step to the side, her cold yellow eyes following Katsuki even as she let him through, but the blond didn't even acknowledge her, short of shoving past her. He stopped just short of Izuku, too close to be comfortable, glaring down at Izuku with his fiery red eyes, but the green-haired boy didn't move an inch.

"W-" Izuku stuttered, staring at the ground as he struggled to find his voice. But, after a moment, he spoke with as much calm control as he could. "What do you mean?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about!" Katsuki lashed out, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him close. Flecks of spit flew out of his mouth as he shouted, and Izuku grit his teeth. "In swim class, you were making fun of me!"

That's what this was about: picking a fight. Of course.

That's all Katsuki ever did, wasn't it? Ever since that first confrontation, Katsuki had used even the smallest excuse to get angry at 'Deku.' And that was why. Izuku was sick of being Deku. He was sick of Katsuki's stupid games. He was sick of all the _crap_ he had to go through. He didn't cower. He didn't hide, or tiptoe around the blond. Not any more. He did what he wanted, no matter what Katski thought.

Izuku had figured it out. Katsuki didn't really care about all of this. No, he just wanted his 'Deku' back. He wanted someone to beat up and make fun of, a weakling to be better than.

He took a deep breath. Being angry won't help. Look at what happened last time he fought back. Got dragged to the principal's office, just to hear the man try his hardest to make it seem like it was 'both side's fault.'

Izuku held back a sigh, and grabbed Katsuki's wrist, pulling it off of his collar. Stumbling back, he still refusing to look the taller boy in the eye. "I was swimming."

"Yeah, and trying to beat me!" Katsuki took another step forward, hissing with indignation. Izuku restrained himself from snorting, glaring at one of the courtyard's many leafless trees. '_Had_' beat him, Izuku might add. He had improved his lap time in the pool quite a bit since last year. Of course, Katsuki treated it as a personal attack.

Then again, to him, it might be. He only seemed to find value in the fact that he was better than his classmates. Izuku couldn't think of better hero material.

"I was just doing the best I could." His tone was low and dry, lacking in all emotions. There was nothing to gain by being here. Either he ended up in a fight with Katsuki, or ended up being beat up by Katsuki. Either way, the school would say it was his fault, so there really was no winning. Thankfully, the blond wasn't standing between him and the gate this time. In theory, he could just walk away.

Katsuki sneered. "Yeah, well your best isn't shit! If I was allowed to use my quirk, you wouldn't be able to even come close!"

Izuku nodded, barely paying attention. Listening to the boy wasn't worth the cost of admission. Turning on his heel, he gestured for Himiko to follow. "Yeah, I'm sure. I need to get going. Himiko, we need to-"

Katsuki stepped around him, blocking his path to the gate. "Going off to do what? Training? Like that's going to help!"

Izuku grit his teeth and shot Katsuki a venomous glare. "Well, it's not really any of your business, okay?"

The taller boy grunted, an angry sound with just a touch of satisfied humor. "You think you have a chance? Really? A useless Deku like you?"

"Let me through, Katsuki." Izuku hissed, his fuse running short.

Popping his knuckles, Katsuki leaned in close, a shark like smile on his face. "What, are you gonna make me? You're _weak. _I don't care how much you run around and play hero with Powderface over there, you're still _nothing_!"

Izuku wanted to punch him then and there. But-

But he couldn't. Control yourself. It's ok. It's just words. He can't actually hurt her, and until Izuku throws the first punch, the boy can't hurt him either. He tried to take a deep breath, let all the tension out, but his fists were still shaking. He spoke quietly, a red hot bomb about to explode. "Don't call her that."

Katsuki laughed at that reaction, a sharp and arrogant sound. The sound of someone with complete control, the cruel duke of his own little duchy. "Deku and Powderface, a pair of freaks! Let me guess, she's the reason you get all torn up? You let her do whatever she wants, because she's the only one that actually pretends to care about a worthless person like you!"

That was it.

That was it, Izuku was done.

"And you think you're so much better?" Izuku screamed, red in the face. Whatever filter Izuku had, his anger had melted through it. "All you care about is being strong! You like being the big, bad Bakugou, as if that makes you better than everyone else!"

"That's because I'm going to be the best!" Katsuki returned fire, his palms sparking as he grabbed Izuku by the collar. "I'm going to be more than all you weaklings at this school! I'm going to be better than any hero that ever was!"

Izuku grit his teeth and stared Katsuki dead in the eye, green rage clashing with savage red joy. Of course Katsuki was enjoying this! To him, this was nothing more than a game, a way to assert dominance, and Izuku hated it! He felt his knife in his pocket, it's cold weight almost begging him to use it. Oh, and how he wanted to! If he could, he would slice the boy's stomach open, show him exactly what it meant to be powerful! Maybe once he saw his own blood on the concrete-

Izuku's thoughts ground to a halt, his stomach twisting into steel knots. What on earth was he thinking? That was- It was so wrong he didn't even know how to describe it! Guilt and disgust flooded him, mixing with his fury to make a nauseating concoction.

He looked away, breaking eye contact and ending their battle of wills. But not without one last muttered jab. "You're everything that's wrong with heroes. So power-obsessed, that you make villains look good."

At that, Katsuki narrowed his eyes. "Why, you-!"

There was no warning, the blond's fist slamming into Izuku's face with the force of a freight train. Izuku stubbled back, breaking from Katsuki's grasp, and looking up just in time to see the boy coming at him again, fist raised.

He should get into a stable stance. Put his feet a shoulder width, and duck his head. Defend, and prepare for a counter attack. But he didn't move.

He couldn't fight. If he threw one punch, that was it. Another mark on his record, proof that he was always up to no good and starting fights. He wanted to be a hero. He wanted to help people. But, to get into U.A., he needed a clean record. Good grades, a good test score, and most important, no fights. And so, he just had to sit and take it. He squeezed his eyes shut and covered his head, bracing for the next impact.

One that didn't come.

There was a moment of silence, and the shuffling of feet on concrete.

Cautiously, Izuku opened one eye, as though the moment he did would be the moment Katsuki hit him.

And there between them, casually holding Katsuki's fist back, was Himiko. She let go, letting his fist fall, and cocked her head. And, despite the uncomfortable silence, she offered up a friendly smile. "So, what's your name, Mr. Spikey?"

"Wha-?" Katsuki's silent confusion goes up in flames, gritting his teeth and shouting just centimeters from Himiko's face. "Don't fucking call me that, Powderface!"

If that was meant to scare the girl, it failed, with Himiko raising her hand to her mouth and giggling gleefully. "Why not? I think it's a cute nickname!"

"I don't care what you think! It's a stupid name!"

Izuku could only watch, absolutely dumbfounded. What on earth was Himiko doing? She was being… well, so _casual _about it, as though it had just been a pleasant run in on the street. The girl took slow, deliberate steps, methodically circling the blond. And, in that moment, Izuku noticed something.

Himiko was smiling. But she certainly wasn't happy.

No, her eyes were cold. Deadly. A viper scanning their prey, preparing to strike. That inhuman part of her, the part that always terrified him, was on full display. Her hand was firmly placed in her pocket, and if she were anything like him, he knew exactly what was in there. His gut told him that there was something very, _very _dangerous about Himiko, and in that moment, he was afraid he was going to find out exactly what.

Himiko glanced over to her partner, that toxic smile stretched across her face. "So, is this the person who beats you up?"

"Huh? W-well," Izuku sputtered out an answer, his eyes darting between an annoyed Katsuki and a deadly Himiko. "Yeah, he is, but-"

"Why don't you fight back?" Himiko cut in, not even letting him finish. She continued to circle, hungerly devouring every detail.

"He'd win!" He blurted it out, fear seeping into his bones. He felt like he was negotiating for Katsuki's life, as though one wrong answer would end with a blade through the blond boy's jugular. "I mean, he's stronger, and, uh…"

Pausing, Himiko looked the two boys up and down, before shaking her head. "Not really, no. You can keep up with me, so I don't think he'd be toooo much of a challenge."

"Don't fucking ignore me!" Katsuki snapped at that, and tried to snach Himiko out of her orbit. But the girl easily avoided him, slipping past his hand effortlessly. It was equally impressive and scary, how little mind she paid him. She was acting as though Katsuki wasn't even near them, just a person brought up in conversation.

Izuku swallowed the bile building in his throat, his mind scrambling to find justification. "... I shouldn't be fighting. It's not right."

Himiko just laughed, never breaking eye contact except for a slow, catlike blink. "Well, it's not like you're choosing to. I mean, Mr. Spikey is obviously wanting to. And besides, I think this would be over in a moment if you wanted it to be. Look how sloppy he is! You were better than him months ago!"

"Why, you-!" At the sound of Himiko's teasing, Katsuki tried to grab her again, but once again, she jumped out of his reach, wholly unconcerned.

"That doesn't make fighting any better! I could hurt him." That should be justification in itself! He didn't think he should have to say that, but looking at Himiko, he was grasping at straws. And… Well, part of him felt that she might not care about whether it hurt someone. That-

That scared him.

The girl just shrugged, acknowledging the detail, but not caring. "And heroes could hurt villains. Does that make heroes wrong?"

… They had had this conversation before. He remembered it. Yes, heroes had to use violence. Sometimes, that was the only way. But he wasn't a hero, not yet. He was a student. And besides, the situations weren't comparible. Heroes defended people. They were enforcing the law. Izuku wasn't doing either. He was just a kid, breaking the rules by beating up another student. It didn't matter if it was self defence, he didn't have the right to go overboard. And-

And, if he were to try and protect himself, he'd end his chances of being a hero.

Himiko cocked her head, letting a bit of genuine sympathy enter her voice. "So, why do you really not want to fight him?"

"... Because, if I want to get into U.A., I need to have a clean record." Izuku looked at his feet, not quite willing to think about that reason. "If I get into fights, they could reject me."

That was the main reason. He could tell himself he was too weak, or hide behind moral reasons, but at the end of the day what kept him from raising his fists was fear. Fear that he would ruin his own chances of attending U.A., fear that he would fail.

His eyes burned a bit, the truth becoming so much more concrete, so much more painful, now that he had said it.

Himiko nodded in understanding, putting the pieces together. "So, you don't want to fight him because, no matter what, you're the one who gets blamed?"

"... Yeah." What else was there for him to say? He wanted to fight back. But, at the end of the day, he refused to, because he knew the bully would win.

Compared to all the underdog stories he loved to read, he really seemed pathetic.

There were a few moments of absolute silence, with Himiko carefully tiptoeing around an agitated Katsuki. Izuku could see it in his eyes, he was waiting for a moment to strike. But Himiko, in her feline ways, managed to never give that opportunity, always managing to move in just the right way to make it difficult for him to predict. And, as she moved, Izuku could see the gears turning behind her toxic yellow eyes.

"So, what would you do if he did it to someone else? Nothing?"

"Huh?" At first, Izuku couldn't compute what she said. Katsuki hadn't done this to someone else in a long time, not since they were kids. And, when he did it then…

Izuku had tried, but he had failed.

Himiko seemed satisfied by his lack of an answer, as though she knew something he didn't. With a smile on her face, the sort that was far too thin and far too wide, she stopped in her tracks. "I'm the selfish type, you know."

"I got you, bitch!" Like a dog let off his leash, Katsuki lept at her, furious sparks flying from his palms and a thirst for vengeance in his eyes.

And, in that moment, Izuku knew he had to act.

**A/N: Hi! Welcome back! Take a seat, grab a drink! It's been a month. Crazy, huh? Yeah, finally got it out, though, so that's nice. I'm actually going to be working back into a regular schedule soon, an update every two weeks, so don't worry; updates won't take **

**this long every time. It was just a bit of a messy summer, and I was actually starting to lay the groundwork for my own original fiction, so it took a bit longer than usual.**

**In other news, some might have noticed that this story has some new cover art! (I use new in the relative sense; it's been a month) But, credit for that actually goes to a reader and member of my Discord, ChildishGuestino! Make sure to give him a shout out, I personally quite like it. The color palate was a nice choice, with a variety of reds, pinks, and purples. **

**With only the worst of intentions,**

**Imp the Nefarious**

**Guest, chapter 13, July 4: … ok, I gotta admit, this is one of my favorite comments. Short, to the point, and it actually made me laugh out loud when I read it the first time. In response, yeah, yeah this fic is kinda depressing. Sorry, I made the cheerful insane girl depressing.**

**Rosinac: I'm flattered! Though, sorry it took me a bit to get the next chapter out. I'll make sure to give you a story worth waiting for! I've actually had issues sometimes writing two characters; sometimes, I'll write an entire section, and then realize 'wait. I just wrote a Himiko section in Izuku's voice. … darn it.' I've done that far too many times to admit, especially early on. But, I'm working on it! Maybe, someday, I'll grow out of my silliness.**


	18. Chapter 18

It was odd to consider, but fighting was a calming experience.

Izuku wasn't quite sure how to describe it. Revlieving? Relaxing? Not quite. Maybe… Therapeutic? That was probably the closest he would get. It was as if, the moment the knife slid into his grip, all of his other concerns were put on hold, a deep sense of calm filling him. There was no homework, no tests, no Katsuki to bully him and no heroes to fix. They all just slipped away, his mind pushing them aside to focus on the set of yellow eyes in front of him.

When that happened, when the blades were flicked open and the two fought, he and Himiko were at their purest. They didn't need to exchange words, to wear fake smiles or try to fit in. They just _were_, existing in the moment.

So, Izuku could just look into her sunflower eyes and pretend their little dance, fast and deadly, was the entire world. All he needed to think about was his next move, and hers. There was no future, not beyond the battle. There was no thinking, not beyond strategy. And there were no consequences, not beyond victory and defeat.

He enjoyed that. He enjoyed that simplicity, that _certainty._ If he had a bad day, he could leave that at the door. If he made a mistake, he could still improve. If he didn't win, he could try again tomorrow. It was okay.

In some strange way, he found peace in fighting.

Today was not one of those times.

"I'm the selfish type, you know." Her eyes were cold, so cold. Sickly yellow with a razorblade pupil, thin and sharp. A lifeless smile, a wide curve sliced into her cheeks. And behind her, there was Katsuki, a rabid dog who had finally found his chance to mangle the stray cat that found endless delight in taunting him.

It was a quiet moment.

Tree branches rattled in the wind.

Cars rumbled in the distance.

But Izuku couldn't speak, his mind too filled with thoughts to even consider opening his mouth.

Katsuki hated Himiko, ever since he first knew about her. Izuku didn't know why, not really. She hadn't even spoken to him before today. Maybe he just hated her because of association. She liked Izuku, and Katsuki hated him, and so he hated her. Maybe. It made sense, at least for Katsuki. It didn't help that she didn't even take him seriously. Izuku really had no idea. But, that didn't matter. All that mattered was that he had to-

Katsuki threw himself forwards, lunging at Himiko.

Move!

Izuku darted forward, slapping Himiko out of the way an instant before Katsuki rammed him, a burning train barreling into his chest. Two hands wrapped around Izuku's neck, searing fleks of fire burning into Izuku's skin, and Izuku screamed, his back slamming against the rough concrete. Katsuki tumbled to the ground too, baring his teeth like a wild dog as he tried to straddle the green-haired boy. But Izuku kept moving, his instincts kicking in as he tore the boy's hands off his neck and throwing his forehead against Katsuki's. The blond sucked in a sharp breath of air, but Izuku gave him no space, delivering a tight punch to his gut and throwing him off.

Objective! Get an objective!

Izuku shot to his feet, struggling to maintain his balance with what felt like a rail spike driven through his skull.

He needed to get out. That was his only priority. Himiko? Where was Himiko? She-

There she was, at the drained koi pond. Simply sitting there, an intrigued smile on her face. As though she was just enjoying the show.

Oh thank god.

"Himiko!" He rushed over as fast as he could, trying to close the brief distance between them. "We need to-"

"Deku!"

Nononono!

Izuku jerked back, dragged by a hand that had caught sight of his shoulder. He tried to tear himself free, struggling against the blond's gri-

A fist collided with Izuku's face, a jarring pain shooting through his jaw.

"You worthless piece of _shit_!" Katsuki screamed, fury in his eyes as he delivered another punch to Izuku's stomach. "Always thinking you're better than me!"

Izuku stumbled back, gasping for air and black spots filling his vision. Plan! A plan, he needed a strategy! Katsuki was top heavy, so maybe he could-

A strike to the face, like a sledgehammer, pushing the boy further away from the koi pond.

Legs, aim for the-

A sharp uppercut smashed into his jaw, and an electric shock of pain shot through him, the taste of blood pouring across the tongue he just bit.

If he could just get Katsuki on the ground, then he'd have the advan-

"Stop your damn muttering!" His thoughts were cut off by another brutal punch to the gut, forcing out whatever little air Izuku had recovered.

Focus! Black spots filled Izuku's vision, he glared past them, panting as he put distance between him and Katsuki and raised his fists to block.

This was nothing like Himiko, not even comparable. Himiko was a cat, hiding in the shadows and striking when she saw weakness. She was an opponent to plan against, someone who would strike once and then disengage. But Katsuki, he was a bull elephant, raw strength that required no strategy. He just hit again and again, smashing his opposition rather than sparring with them. He couldn't win with the same tactics he used against Himiko.

So Izuku had to adapt. It was that simple.

For a short moment, neither of the boys moved, both of them struggling to recover their breath. It was a moment Izuku desperately needed, his mind scrambling to piece together something resembling a strategy.

His weak points. What were his weak points? Legs and forearms. Those were the biggest ones. His footwork was sloppy at best, so it should be easy to throw him off balance. And despite how strong he was, he was constantly overextending himself to land a punch. So, if Izuku stayed right at the edge of Katsuki's reach, he should able to grab his wrist and deliver a kick, which meant… Okay, yeah, that was how to get him on the ground.

Katsuki started to circle, his fiery eyes locked on Izuku's, and Izuku started to circle in turn, keeping at a safe distance away. The shorter boy ducked his head behind his fists, not even daring to blink.

Resources. What resources did he have, and what was the terrain? He was used to the narrow confines of alleyways, where he could push himself off of walls and hide in the many nooks and crannies, preparing to strike his opponent in an ambush. But here? It was so open, so clean, it made him nervous. Basketball courts to his left, a gate to his right, lunch tables behind him, and on the other side of Katsuki, a koi pond that had been drained for the winter. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. And there was nothing around him, no dirt to throw, no garbage to lob at his opponent. His only resources were his feet, his fists, and…

Izuku's leg bumped into a bench, leaving him no more room to back up.

The knife Himiko gave him weighed heavy in his pocket. He could use it. He could end the fight quickly.

Izuku was far better with a knife than with his fists alone, and considering how Katsuki has his quirk, it would help cut down that advantage. With that, he could aim for the joints, potentially immobilize-

No, what on earth was he thinking?! It didn't matter if Katsuki had a quirk, there was absolutely no way Izuku was going to try and slice open the boy's joints! He was treading on thin ice as it was, imagine what the school would do if he cut up their favorite student's tendons! He couldn't go all out, that would be the last nail in the coffin for any hope of being a her-

"Shut up!" Katsuki broke from his orbit, throwing himself at Izuku with animalistic disregard, and Izuku's body exploded into action. Catching Katsuki's wrist and dragging him off balance, Izuku kicked the blond's feet out from under him, exactly as planned.

What wasn't planned was Katsuki's other hand.

Izuku spotted it, only centimeters from his stomach, and gasped just instants before the sparks in Katsuki's palm caught.

An explosion rattled Izuku's bones, throwing him against the bench. The world exploded into sound. A boom, a scream, a warcry. But then, a bolt of electricity shot through his body, scorching his nerves before he collapsed to the ground. The sensations that just moments before were completely overwhelming shrunk to mere whimpers, the world becoming darker and dimmer.

It hurt. Everything hurt, in so many ways. His lungs were screaming for air, and while his mouth was open, Izuku wasn't entirely sure he was breathing. His eyes were open, but his brain wasn't processing what he was seeing. His face was hot against the cool concrete, and his hands were numb.

His stomach, his chest, his thighs… they all burned. It was like liquid fire had been poured over them, melting away the skin, and then the frigid air had come to fill the empty space. Was it a medical emergency? Izuku… Izuku couldn't think straight enough to know.

And his neck. Oh god, his neck. It… he must've hit the corner of the bench. He watched his hand closely, and saw it twitch. That meant… well, his spine wasn't broken. That was a good sign. But a low bar.

In his blurry vision, something moved. Something large, with splotches of black and blond.

And it was getting smaller.

"You bitch!" Katsuki's voice rang out, reverberating in Izuku's mind like echoes in a metal room. 'Get over here!"

"Nah!" That was… that was Himiko. And she seemed so casual. Izuku squinted, painfully forcing his vision into focus. He could start to make out details, the singe marks on Katsuki's uniform, and…

… And Himiko, just sitting there as Katsuki approached. She- She wasn't even moving! She had a knowing smile on her face, not even an ounce of fear in her relaxed body. And Katsuki kept stomping towards her, a threat in his clenched fists.

Katsuki was going to hurt her. He was going to-

Izuku clenched his teeth, angry at how useless he was. It had been months. Literal months of training. And Katsuki still beat him, just like he always had. Nothing had changed. Nothing had improved. He was still the Deku.

Tears of fury stung his eyes, drops of acid trickling down his face. He hated them. He hated them so much. Katsuki. The school. Everyone that pretended this was okay. The heroes, the villains, all of them. Because they were all the same, just power hungry monsters. The strong deserved praise and protection, and the weak… they were just toys. Objects to be saved, tools to be used. And if they stepped out of line, opposition to be beaten down.

And Izuku was powerless to stop it.

She had to move! She had to fight! Himiko, do something! Please!

Move!

Move, please!

For the love of all things heroic-!

Izuku shook. Fire burned in his veins. He shook from pain, from fear. From adrenaline and anger. His muscles screamed, telling him to stop, telling him any more would break him. His mind rattled its chains, pleading him to give up, pleading him to understand that it was pointless. But he ignored them. He only listened to his heart.

And his heart demanded victory, no matter the cost.

He grit his teeth, pushing himself up to his elbows. Then his hands. Then his knees. And finally, ignoring every part of him that told him no, ignoring the burns and scrapes, he staggered to his feet, barely balanced on his unsteady legs.

"Katsuki." A crude smile spread across Izuku's face, filled to the brim with brutal, stubborn anger. "I'm not done."

Katsuki paused, halfway to Himiko, and turned, revealing an expression so twisted by rage, it could barely be considered human. But that only made Izuku smile wider. Katsuki was going to fall apart. And Izuku was going to make sure of it.

"What is it, Kaaa-chan? Did you think you're little quirk would stop me?" Izuku mewled, pouting and plastering on a mocking rendition of his oh-so-common pathetic face. But that expression quickly melted away, replaced by a hateful grin. "You thought I was weak. You're wrong."

Katsuki stared at him as though glaring alone could make the boy's head explode, but he didn't make a move. "What the _hell_ do you think you're saying, Deku?!"

Izuku chuckled, so loose and casual it was cruel. It was difficult to stand up straight, especially without wincing in pain, but he straightened every fiber of his being to hide it. "Oh, nothing. Just the little things I've always thought. The ones everyone thinks."

The taller boy didn't even respond properly, his only reaction being a throaty, animalistic growl. Good.

There was a simple fact. When someone was angry, they didn't think as straight. No matter how strong or intelligent a person was, if they couldn't keep their emotions in check, they were as easy to predict as an animal. It was the downfall of many villains, and heroes from north to south always kept that trick in their back pocket. The hard part was figuring out what buttons to push, but lucky for Izuku, Katsuki essentially had them painted on his forehead.

And even Izuku had to admit, in some twisted way, it was fun. Was it right to enjoy this? Izuku didn't know. But it felt good. And with how much pain he was in, that was what mattered.

"Oh, you think you're so big, so strong. You think that you're better than everyone else. But do you know what they say about you behind your back? Do you know what I've heard?" Izuku had no idea what they said behind Katsuki's back. It wasn't like his classmates talked with him. But Izuku knew what he thought, and surely that counted? "They think you're ridiculous. Just a scared little kid that thinks he can prove himself by beating others up."

"Shut up." Katsuki spoke quickly and quietly, his tone as sharp as a knife.

"Ooh, did I touch a nerve?" Izuku feigned surprise, taunting the blond. "Well, of course I did. It's true. After all, who could take you seriously? The only reason you have a _shot_ at U.A. is because the school's been pulling strings for you. You haven't done anything to earn it. You don't _deserve_ it."

"Shut up!" The taller boy was shouting now, his shoulders tense and his teeth grinding against each other.

"Oh, poor little Kaaa-chan. You have yet to realize the most important thing." Izuku's smile only got wider and wider, as though his cheeks were about to split. And, as he closed the distance between them, his voice dropped, his eyes filled with toxic joy. "_No one cares about you._"

That was the last straw. And Izuku had won.

"Die!' Katsuki leaped at Izuku, a vicious beast, but Izuku delivered a merciless blow to the blond's face. Katsuki stumbled backwards, and Izuku charged, tackling him to the ground. Struggling with the wild blows of a cornered dog, Katsuki threw punch after punch, and sparked as many explosions as he could. But Izuku piledrived through it, smashing his face with a punch.

"How does it feel?" Izuku screamed, something cracking as his fist met Katsuki's nose.

"How does it feel to be all alone, to have no one there to save you?"

Another punch, and then another.

"How does it feel to be weak?!"

There was no more strategy. No more plan. Katsuki wasn't even resisting anymore, just limply taking it. All there was was a feral smile on his face, and blood on his knuckles. Every time a punch landed, there was a sickening wet crunch, and his fists had long since gone numb, the only feeling being the hot wetness that coated them.

"To be _powerless_?!"

Everything faded from Izuku's mind, leaving nothing but white hot rage and sickly, twisted joy. Nothing around him existed, not until the gym teacher's hands hastily dragged him off of a bloodied, unconscious Katsuki.

Only then did he see the proud smile on Himiko's face.

)ooOoo(

"Yes, yes, I understand, I-... Yes, I'm very sorry. It won't happen again, I assure you." Even through the door, Izuku could hear his mom sigh. "... Mitsuki, I'm so sorry. I hope he fully recovers in time for the entrance exams, I know he really wants to go to U.A."

She had been at this for almost an hour. And every second of it felt like an eternity.

Izuku shifted in his desk chair, unable to do anything except stare at the yellowish wall paint. His body felt like a broken machine, its gears and pistons cracked and misaligned. He was absolutely covered in scrapes and bruises, and one eye was sore and purple, so puffed up he could barely see out of it. He had two pieces of paper towel wadded up and stuffed up his nose, and half a dozen others tossed into the waste bin on the other side of his room. His knuckles were shredded, as though he had run them against an electric sander on maximum power, dark scabs having formed where the once was skin. And, more noticeable than anything else, was the massive bandaging across his chest and stomach, so tightly bound it was almost difficult to breath..

Everything hurt, even if he was sitting perfectly still. If he moved a muscle, invisible claws raked down his entire body, tearing at his tender wounds. And if he sat still, his burns groaned in pain, hot to the touch despite being lathered in cool gel-like medicine.

The doctor in the ER had told him it was a second degree burn. Apparently Katsuki had blown off several layers of skin with his attack, enough that they had to conduct an emergency skin graft on one part of his stomach after he was rushed to the hospital. And it got worse: the wound was already sensitive after the blast, but with so much adrenaline in his body, he had kept on fighting, resulting in even more damage. He had broken his body, pushing it so far past the point of no return that he might've actually done more damage to it than Katsuki had.

Three weeks. That's what the doctor said. It would take three weeks to heal, and in that time, he needed plenty of rest. Not that he would be going to school anyway. He had been suspended until late march.

He tried to take a deep breath, but even that hurt to do.

Look… look on the bright side, he would've recovered in time to do the entrance exam for U.A.!

… Like that mattered. Considering all _this_, it was unlikely they'd even look at his application. That's if they hadn't already thrown it out the moment they saw the word 'quirkless.'

For a moment, Izuku just stared at his desk, not even bothering to process what he was seeing. It felt pointless. He… he'd messed up. It was that simple. And now he was paying for it.

"Izuku?" Izuku glanced up to see his mom gently pushing the door open. He watches her enter, but he can't bring himself to make any particular expression. What was he supposed to do? Give a big smile? Maybe bow his head, refuse to look her in the eye? He didn't know. He didn't have any heart to put into it. He just felt…

Empty. Sore. Thoughtless, wordless, _pointless_.

So, he sat in silence, just staring as his mom approached.

"How are you feeling?" She spoke softly, reaching out raise his chin and inspect his eye. But Izuku flinched away, hissing in pain, before hesitantly letting her touch him.

How was he feeling? Physically, like he had been run over by a train. Emotionally… a lot of things, none of them good. He chewed on his lip, his eyes lingering on his mom's toes. "It hurts, but… n-nothing I don't deserve."

There were a few moments of quiet, not a sound except for the creaking of the ceiling fan. There was concern in his mom's dark eyes, but different than the usual sort. Normally, she seemed filled with worry, the dull and draining sort that stemmed from unpaid bills and an exhausting job. But the look in her eyes now, it was the sharp, very present sort of worry, as if she had just received a message threatening her and her son's very lives.

… Well, maybe she had, if Aunt Mitsuki decided to go to court. It was unlikely, but still a possibility.

Finally, Mom sighed, and let her hand drop to her side. "I heard from Mitsuki just now. About Katsuki."

Izuku nodded, and tried to swallow his building fear. Here came the verdict. "Yeah?"

"He should recover quickly. He has a broken nose, and…" Mom hesitated, her eyes drifting down and away. She opened her mouth, but for a few seconds, she couldn't find her words. "... Izuku, you gave him a concussion. A severe one. And the doctor's not sure how long it'll be until he fully recovers."

Izuku winced, clenching his fists. "I'm-... I'm sorry."

"I'm not the one you need to apologize to." Inko scowled, speaking firmly but still unable to look her son in the eye.

He knew that. Of course he knew that. But that didn't make it any easier. He… he couldn't stand Katsuki. He just couldn't handle talking with him. For almost a year, every single time they interacted, it ended in a fight. And there was nothing he could do about that. The boy would track Izuku down nearly every day, trying over and over to start a fight. And Izuku's only real option was to curl up into a ball and hope that the blond wouldn't hurt him as much as usual.

Well, and fight back. And Izuku saw how that went.

After a few tense moments, Mom finally spoke up, quiet but firm. "Izuku, I'm upset with you. I am. I want to say 'I'm not angry, I'm just disappointed,' but I am angry."

The boy clenched his jaw, tears burning in his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"I know. But that doesn't change what you did." She said it with so much certainty, so much totality. And he didn't know what hurt more: the ice in her voice, or the fact that she was right. "I know you and Katsuki don't have the best relationship. You've changed since you were children. But what you did, it's unacceptable."

_Izuku's _changed. Not Katsuki. Looking back, he hasn't changed one bit, aside from getting bigger. It had been a decade, and at his core, Katsuki still acted like a child. That's what infuriated Izuku more than anything else. Since Katsuki was strong, since everyone admired his quirk, he had never needed to grow up. And Izuku was bearing the brunt of his childish tantrums and insecurity.

… What Izuku had done, would it have been unacceptable if Katsuki was a villain? You never saw anyone talking about how Toxic Gator got a concussion after All Might Detroit Smashed him. Because people didn't care about villains, not really. After the threat was disposed of and they got arrested, the public didn't care. All they cared about was showering heroes in praise.

It was sickening.

Izuku knew he had gone too far. But Katsuki had started it. Katsuki had been the one pushing for a fight, and Izuku had to defend himself and Himiko. Villains hurt people, and since Katsuki was trying so hard to hurt them…

No. No, don't think like that. Izuku might not like Katsuki, but he was no villain. He was just a student.

He took a deep breath, and slowly nodded. "... I understand."

Inko sighed, a weary and drawn out sound. "I hope so. Izuku, I love you. And I worry about you, every day. But things like this, they aren't okay. I hope I haven't raised you to think they are."

"You didn't." He responded quickly, but without a drop of strength. It was the answer she wanted to hear. It was the answer that he wanted to believe. But… he didn't know if it was the truthful answer.

Because, while he felt awful, the more he thought about it, the less he thought he did something wrong.

"Good." There was a pause as she looked for something else to say. "Look, honey… I'm going to bed. I'm not going to force you to do anything. But, at some point, I expect you to apologize to Katsuki. He deserves it."

With that, she stepped back, and left the room. She shot back one last glance before the door slid shut behind her. And Izuku didn't move from his chair, his eyes locked on nothing.

… What Katsuki deserved.

He deserved a lot of things. An apology wasn't one of them. But… He was raised to admit when he did something wrong. And that meant apologizing, even if he didn't want to.

But did he really do anything wrong? After all-

No, no, don't go there. Yes, he had done something wrong. He gave Katsuki a concussion, for All Might's sake. He had gone too far, and he had hurt someone. The reasons didn't matter beyond that. He wasn't a hero, Katsuki wasn't a villain, and the rules said no fighting. That's all there was to it.

… He just needed some sleep.

Izuku groaned in pain, his still and torn up limbs complaining as he pushed himself up and changed into his black pajamas. Turning off all of the lights in his room aside from his desk lamp, he crawled into his bed, too tired and sore to think about anything else.

And then the door creaked open.

"Izuuu-kun?" A little head popped through the door, with a wide smile and a small whisper.

"Himiko?" Painfully shuffling in his bed, Izuku glanced over to the door. The dim lighting of his desk lamp painted his room in an aura of dull orange light and swaths of inky shadows, pooling in the corners and partially concealing Himiko. Her pale blond hair was let down, falling down to her shoulders in stringy knots, and she wrapped herself in one of Mom's long sleeved T-shirts, thick enough to keep her warm in the chilly apartment.

"Good, you're still awake!" She spoke with hushed excitement, careful not to alert Mom. With a giggle that was uniquely 'Himiko,' she stepped through the door, casually making her way to Izuku's bed.

"What are you doing?" Izuku furrowed his eyebrows, watching her plop down on his bed and playfully kick her legs back and forth. This… wasn't normal. In the time that she had lived with them, Himiko had followed his mom's rules to a T: eat dinner with the family, do all of her home and housework, dozens of others. And key among these, one that Mom had left no uncertainty about, absolutely no being in Izuku's room after lights-out. Then again, this wasn't the first time Himiko had behaved oddly.

"I just wanna make sure my little Izu-kunis doing alright! You look so cute, too bad I wasn't the one who did it..." She smiled in her odd little way, scooting closer to him. She reached out to hug him, trying to snuggle close to Izuku's body, but…

He held a hand out, holding her at an arm's length.

There were… things Izuku had noticed about Himiko.

Patterns.

Habits.

Behaviours.

Izuku cared about her deeply. He couldn't deny that he genuinely cared about the girl. Even then, he noticed. They were small things. A drawing. A choice of words. A look in her eyes. Minor, each one able to be ignored on their own. But, like grains of sand in an hourglass, they added up.

And that glass was filling up rather quickly.

"Why did you do it?" He spoke slowly and steadily, an almost dark undertone to his voice.

"Hm?" Himiko glanced between the hand holding her back and Izuku's dark eyes, confusion on her face as she cocked her head. "Do what?"

Izuku tightened his lips, attempting to ignore the way his gut was tying itself in knots. He didn't want to say it. He didn't want to think about it. Not what happened, not why, none of it. But he had to know. "Himiko, you did that on purpose. We both know it. But… but I don't know why."

Her smile froze, and then died a bit. The cheerful light in her eyes receded back, overwhelmed by the room's dark shadows, and the arms she was still holding out gradually fell back to her sides. And, for a time, she didn't speak.

Even in the dark, he could see it in her eyes. The gears spinning, the thoughts flowing. But… there was no cold or calculating edge to it, not like he had seen before the fight. Her eyes, dark and yellow with feline slits for pupils, were warm. Genuine. Honest.

Ashamed.

Her eyes travelled downwards, eventually settling on Izuku's outstretched hand. With one hand, she began to gnaw on her thumbnail, and with the other, she clasped Izuku's, as though to seek comfort. "... I don't like seeing you get hurt. At least, not when you don't like it."

Izuku took a deep breath, letting their hands become interwoven as he lowered them to the bed. He didn't like that answer. It didn't justify it. But… It was an answer. And not a cruel one. "So you started a fight?"

"No." She shifted a bit, becoming more situated on the bed and letting her eye's drift towards the green ones of her partner. "I just let you fight back."

"Himiko, I'm-" Frowning, he tried his hardest to seem firm. Say it. Stand your ground. She needs to know. "... I'm angry at you."

"Hm?" All of the relaxation in the girl's body evaporated, her entire frame stiffening as though a stream of electricity had been run through her body. Her grip on his hand tightened, almost strangling, but Izuku simply stared back, equal parts firmness and concern in his eyes.

There were a lot of things that had gone wrong. Katsuki decided to pick a fight, Izuku had snapped, countless other things. In the end, both of the boys were heavily injured, And Izuku hated that he had done it.

But looking back, it was obvious that Himiko had put herself in harm's way to force Izuku's hand. And regardless of her reasons, that made him angry.

"I hurt him, Himiko. A lot." The words came out carefully, each one carefully selected. Izuku was shaking. Could Himiko feel it? What did she think- No, no, that doesn't matter. Hold steady. Speak clearly. "I got too caught up in the moment, in my _anger_, and I let myself do something horrible. I messed up."

Himiko took a moment, but she finally responded, so quiet that she seemed to be tiptoeing with her words. "I don't think you did."

"Yes I did." He spoke with certainty, not daring to look away from Himiko. He… he didn't know what he expected her to say. He wasn't sure _if _he expected her to say anything. But he wanted to show her how wrong it was, how ashamed he was. Maybe not so that she could understand, but so… so that he could prove it to himself. Prove that he knew it was wrong. Prove that he hadn't enjoyed it. "It's against the rules to fight. It's that simple. And while I wasn't the one looking for a fight, the fact of the matter is that I got in one. And not only that, I took it too far. You saw the state he was in. These rules exist to make sure people don't get hurt, and when it mattered, I just… ignored them."

"... You ignored them for a reason." A puny excuse, one that Izuku had long since thrown out. That didn't matter. It didn't matter when he thought about it, and… and it didn't matter when Himiko said it.

"Not a good one." He frowned, not letting himself think about how tightly she was clinging to his hand. What mattered was that people got hurt, and he had to stand firm in that. A true hero needed morals, even if modern ones had none.

He loved Himiko.

Izuku knew it, and he would not change that. But sometimes, a line had to be drawn, both for her, and for himself. He and Himiko were good people. And Izuku was going to keep it that way.

If they just went around saying such-and-such reason made it okay to hurt people, eventually they'd be doing just as much evil as villains and heroes. There were rules, laws in place. Ones that had to be followed. And while they had their flaws, they could be improved, and above all, they had to be followed. That was Izuku's line, and the one that he had ignored today.

There was a brief stretch of total silence, with not even wind outside to fill the tense vacuum. But then, as if she could read his mind, Himiko posed a question. "... Izu-kun, did the rules protect you?"

"Huh?" Izuku furrowed his eyebrows, attempting to compute the jump in subject.

"You said that the rules exist to make sure people don't get hurt." She spoke softly, her voice smooth and calm. "Did they protect you?"

"... No." He couldn't say yes. He couldn't lie that blatantly. Izuku coughed, glancing at his lap. The school and its rules didn't protect him. Or, at least, not as much as they protected Katsuki.

"Why?" Himiko cooed, her eyes hiding something in their shadows, and sets her hand on his leg.

"Because people were ignoring them." He tensed up, both at the thought and at the physical contact. She knew why. He had told her before, and he could already see where this was headed. He didn't want to think like that. He didn't want to give up what little faith he had.

"Izu-kun, rules are important when they protect you." Her hand gradually moved up, eventually reaching his bandaged torso, and she leaned forward, their faces so close that he could feel her breathing. "But right now, they're not."

Izuku scrunched up his face, refusing to look her in the eyes. "That isn't an excuse for me to hurt people!"

"But it is a reason to protect yourself." She scooted closer, completely closing the distance between them. He wanted to push her away. He wanted to tell her no, tell her that it wasn't alright. That none of this was alright. But he couldn't do it, he couldn't tell her no.

"... Izu-kun, if it had just been me and Mr. Spikey, who would the school have blamed?"

The question was so simple. He didn't even have to think about it. After having seen the principal every other day for the past few months, Izuku practically had the man's normal speech memorized. And he would know each and every lie in it, every fake little detail.

"... You. Th-they would want to make sure he had a clean record." The man wanted a student in U.A.. And Katsuki was his bet.

"Mm-hm." Himiko nodded solemnly, leading Izuku step by step. "So, who was there to protect me?"

This was the part Izuku hated to say.

"No one."

No one was there to help her. The teachers, the other students, the school, they all sided with Katsuki. They always did. And that meant Himiko, just like Izuku, would be all alone.

Himiko's dark expression shifted, an almost coy smile growing on her face. "Nope."

"Huh?" He glanced up, suddenly confused.

"Izu-kun, you were there for me." Himiko finally closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around him in a loving hug. "And, if it had been anyone else, I'm sure you would've been there for them too. Because that's just who you are."

Izuku froze, unsure what to do as the girl clung to him.

Don't put it that way. Don't make what he did seem altruistic or goodhearted. It wasn't. All it was- He had just moved! He wasn't thinking about right and wrong when he had done it. He just-

He saw her in trouble.

And his body did the rest.

Himiko snuggled her face into his chest, completely ignoring his stiffness as he ran a hand through his hair. And she spoke kindly, her voice filled with compassion and empathy. "Izu-kun, some people have been abandoned. You. Me. So many others. And no hero protects them. Society passed them by, and they're left alone, trampled under the heels of the strong. And then… and then there's you. You care. Not just about some, but about everyone. And, if you see someone in trouble, you help them. You _defend_ them, no matter what the consequences for you are. And that's what you did today."

That still wasn't right! "But I was acting on anger-"

"What were you angry at?" She cut him off, lazily looking up at him.

"What?"

"What were you angry at?" Casually curling a strand of his hair around her finger, she repeated the question. So calmly, so cooly, as though she wasn't asking why he had beat a kid half to death.

"... The way he was treating you. The fact that no one was stopping him. The fact that he wouldn't be punished." And so many more. Uncountably many reasons. It was all just so messed up, and he struggled to keep his voice steady as he spoke.

"And being angry about that was wrong?" Himiko prodded further, systematically tearing apart the boundaries that encased Izuku's mind.

"... No." The boy mumbled, most of the fight having drained out of him. All he could do was say the same things over and over in spite of mounting evidence. "But I still shouldn't have used violence…"

"... Izu-kun, do you remember what I told you, back when we started training?"

"Huh? Uh, what?" That could've been a lot of things. It had been months since then, and he had learned quite a bit from her in that time.

Himiko's face had no hint of a smile, no trace of her humor or optimism. Her eyes were cold, the slits having become so thin and intense that they seemed like those of a heartless reptile instead of a playful cat. And the frown on her face, it communicated something beyond seriousness.

Himiko was speaking from the core of her being, and Izuku was going to listen.

"When a villain attacks someone, a hero has to protect that person, even if it means hurting the villain."

There was no way to deny that. It was true, accepted fact. And that idea left a deathly silence in his mind.

Villains hurt people. That's what made them villains. And heroes protected people. That's what made them heroes.

But often, 'heroes' hurt people for senseless reasons, and the law made sure they went unpunished.

Sometimes, the system was wrong. Laws didn't work, and heroes did evil. What was Izuku supposed to do?

According to Himiko, whatever it took.

And what scared him was that he agreed.

"... Do-" Izuku's voice caught, his entire body trembling. "Do you think there was any other way to stop him?"

"Do you?"

"... No." Izuku knew that. He just hoped Himiko might tell him otherwise. "The moment he started that fight, we were already going to get punished. And… and it's just not right!"

Himiko nodded, sad sympathy in her eyes. "You did the right thing."

"No I didn't." Izuku grimaced, clenching his jaw. "Not the right thing. Just the least wrong thing."

"Sometimes, that's all we can do." There was a distinct sadness in her eyes, as though she was remembering something. But, before Izuku could ask, she smiled, hugging him tighter. "… So, do you want to keep telling me about those quirk statistics?"

Izuku took a moment to process the request, but then he laughed, finally hugging her back.

"Yeah, sure."

Despite the rules his mom had put in place, Izuku had quite a few bite marks hidden amongst his wounds the next morning.

**A/N: Hey everyone, back a bit early this time! I know this chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but I thought I might round out that cliffhanger I left for you before school starts! Hopefully this broke my "wait a month before posting again" funk, because it was driving me nuts. Things should get rolling on a schedule again now. To those of you hoping Izuku was going to muder Bakugo, no, be patient. **

**With only the worst of intentions,**

**Imp the Nefarious**

**FFN:**

**Glover64: Hey, congratulations, you wrote my 200th comment! I thought I'd tell you. Don't get overexcited, though; Izuku, Himiko, the Augur, not even the league; none of them are prepared for what I have in store.**

**Stone125: Fast enough for ya? I'll try to not make you wait a ridiculously long time for new chapters anymore.**

**YeetusSkeetus: Oh wow, thank you for commenting then! I myself have only commented, like… ten times? Maybe. I love reading on this site, but I'm terrible at commenting. I should probably work on that.**


	19. Chapter 19

Himiko enjoyed hot showers.

The way the hot water hit her back, the way her muscles loosened and how she could feel the grime being washed off her skin. And, above all, the steam. She loved the way it filled the room, wrapping around her and filling her lungs. It was a thick, wet blanket that engulfed her but didn't even touch her. It sunk into her skin, relaxing her stiff muscles, and filled her mouth with the taste of hot humidity. And while the hissing of the shower filled the room, she could sing along to a song in her head she almost knew the lyrics to, letting all of her worries slip from her mind.

For a moment, she let her mind be silent, not a single thing distracting her from the way the water hit her back.

… It was nice.

If she stayed any longer, she might fall back asleep.

Himiko stretched and groaned, turning off the shower and plucking up her towel. She took a step out and, as she began drying herself, remembered another reason she liked steam.

While the Midoriya's bathroom wasn't particularly large, it had a tall mirror across from the sink, not too unlike the one in Aunt Iku's apartment. It was the full body sort that almost stretched from floor to ceiling, the type Himiko could imagine herself standing in front of if she wanted to see how a new set of clothes looked. It wasn't fancy or amazing, without a frame or any lights, but it was well kept, thanks to Himiko's list of chores, and it let her see her whole body.

So, Himiko was thankful that the steam fogged it up. She leaned forwards, rubbing away just enough of the steam so that she could see her grinning face.

She quickly went through her routine, tossing on her school uniform and pinning up her hair. Himiko actually liked the winter uniform, with it's cute little skirt and long sleeved jacket. She would've liked it more if it wasn't black, maybe a light blue or even green would've been nicer, and she liked her cardigan more than the school's button up. But overall, she adored it. One thing she wasn't particularly looking forward to was the switch to the spring uniform. She knew it was almost march, and the snow was starting to melt, but if she could, she'd stay in the long sleeved winter uniform all year.

"And… there!" With a last flick of her mascara, Himiko leaned back and purred with content. Her makeup was a mess, as usual, but just the process of putting it on was fun. She'd figure out how to do it properly someday, after she finally learned how to fix all of her other issues. But this was good enough for now! She nodded to no one in particular, and left the restroom, crossing over to the closed door across the hall.

She energetically rapped her knuckles against the door, disrupting the morning silence of the Midoriya household. "Good morning, Izu-kuuun!"

There was the creaking of bedsprings, and a faint groan. But, after a few moments, there was nothing but silence.

Himiko's grin flickered, and a bit of worry slipped into her eyes.

She knew what to expect.

But that didn't make it any easier.

"Come on, Izu-kun…" A subdued smile was carried on her voice as she tenderly pushed open the door. "... Let's get breakfast ready…"

Nothing in the dark room moved.

For a moment, Himiko's forced cheeriness just hung in the air, bright and happy in spite of the room's dead silence. But, as the silence stretched on, without any form of reaction, Himiko's smile died a bit.

He was doing it again.

And she hated it.

Izu-kun's room was normally extremely clean. Even if the boy left one or two things out of place, he always managed to keep things organized and in good order, almost as though each and every object in his room was bound to a particular location. Himiko had no idea how he did it, with her own area always being a mess that she had to spend a day digging up and cleaning every few weeks. It was two totally different lifestyles, and really, it fit the two perfectly.

But at the moment, Izu-kun's room look like Himiko had been living in it.

Himiko's heart tightened a bit.

With almost inhuman precision, she crept across the dark room, lithely stepping around the scattered junk. Wadded up clothes, haphazardly built stacks of books, even his laptop, dozens of things that Izu-kun set down and simply never picked up. It was a mess, one completely uncharacteristic of Izu-kun. A deep, worried frown formed on Himiko's face.

"Izu-kun…" She reached the bed, concern in her voice as she looked at the crumpled ball of blanket on the bed. She reached out, running her fingers through the knotted mess of green hair that was poking out. "Time to wake up…"

The pile shuffled again, and there was another groan, this one long and sore as the boy untangled his limbs. His movements were slow and stiff, like an old, unused inflatable filling up for the first time in years. And after what seemed like several minutes, Izu-kun sat up, pushing off the thick comforter.

"G-good morning, Himiko." He spoke quietly, his voice as smooth as sandpaper and his eyes as lively as a rotten fish. His gaze shifted back and forth, but it never looked up, and it never looked at Himiko.

Himiko rubbed her forehead against his, trying her best to keep the smile on her face as she half-whispered. "How'dya sleep?"

"I, uh…" For a moment, he doesn't respond, a dark haze in his eyes as he slowly clears his mind of its sleepy fog. "... Not well. I stayed up really late reading again."

She wasn't surprised, not really. It was like asking how the burnt food she made tasted good. She already knew how it tasted. She could tell just by looking at it. But it was just common courtesy.

In these past two weeks, anything resembling a sleep schedule had simply disappeared from Izu-kun's life. She would see him up at all hours of the night, or asleep at random points during the day. And with that, any sense of order or purpose in his life seemed to have gone up in smoke. It wasn't like he did nothing; Reading, researching, jotting things down in his notebooks. But it had no drive, no energy. He always had energy. It was what she loved about him. He was always pushing forward, even if it seemed pointless. But now…

Well, it was as though, without the ability to push forward, he had started to drown. Himiko's heart clenched, but she didn't let it show on her face.

It scared her. It really did. She could see it in his eyes; he was coming apart at the seams. An old doll left in the back of the closet as the world passed by, his only company the mice that pick at his strings. Deep in those dark green eyes, she saw clouds. Thick, swirling thunder clouds. Clouds that were all too familiar.

Every morning she and Mrs. Midoriya left for school and work. And every morning, Himiko had to force down the poison in her stomach.

Those were different clouds.

Izu-kun had grown.

So… He couldn't do that.

Right?

… She'd make sure to lock the ladder to the roof.

Himiko tensed up a bit, holding Izu-kun's wrist just a bit tighter than before. "... Lets get your bandages changed!"

Izu-kun's nods, almost lifeless in his motions as he shuffled to the edge of the bed. He pushed the blanket aside, revealing his torso as Himiko snagged the medicine box from his desk. She leafed through it, her lithe fingers quickly finding the various creams she had been looking for. Finally grabbing the gauze, she turns and kneels in front of Izuku, chewing on her tongue as she carefully inspected his wounds.

He had healed a lot, actually. Most of the burns were gone, along with all of the bruises, and only a few scrapes remained. To her mild disappointment, her blue-and-black eye candy had mostly recovered. What was left was hidden behind a large square of gauze, which Himiko gingerly peeled away. Underneath was a large square of bumpy, discolored flesh, leathery to the touch as she rubbed the medical cream on it.

Himiko went through the process mindlessly, having already done it daily for the past two weeks. But as she worked, both her mind and her eyes wandered, watching Izu-kun's listless expression.

… He hadn't been running at all since the fight. Add lack of exercise to his serious injuries, and there wasn't a doubt in Himiko's mind that Izuku would need time to get back to where he had been physically. And, with the entrance exam only a week away...

She licked her lips, pressing down the medical tape to keep the new gauze in place, and gave it a playful pat as she stood up. "Your injuries are looking pretty good! Do you want to go on a jog this morning?"

He didn't say anything at first, but eventually, a small whisper left his lips."... I'm sorry."

Oh god, the guilt in his eyes. Himiko's stomach tightened, her smile growing tighter. It hurt to watch, and it hurt even more that she didn't know what to do.

"Hey, don't apologize! We can take it easy today, go slower or shorter than before!" Please. Please say yes. She couldn't take it anymore. She could watch himself fall apart any longer. It was torture, and if this kept up, she'd have to endure the torture of watching him fail the entrance exam too. "We gotta make sure you're ready for U.A.!"

He shifted on the bed, his hopeless scowl deepening. "... I don't think I'll even get in, really."

"But we have to try, right?" Nonononononono! He can't do this! He has to try, to work, to do _something_! The enthusiasm in her voice was fueled by panic, a desperate attempt to get her partner back on his feet. "After all, we have our promise!"

"I know, but…" He takes a deep breath, unable to even finish the thought. "... I don't know."

A cold silence settled between the two, hollow and dead.

It physically hurt, and not just the silence.

The guilt did too.

This was her fault.

Not… not really, but…

Well, some of it had to be.

Those words she said to Izu-kun weeks ago, they were starting to seem hollow, even to her.

Her throat felt far too tight.

"... Hey, let's go get some breakfast!" The fake smile on her face was stretched so wide it hurt, strings pulled far too taut.

"Y-yeah…" Izu-kun nodded, a hesitance in his voice as he pushed himself up to get dressed. But Himiko kept up her enthusiasm, refusing to let the pain in her heart tear through her happy facade. Through helping him get dressed, through neatening up his room, through cooking and eating breakfast. An artificial giggle at her own joke, an intentional mistake to try and lighten the mood. Fake cheeriness, fake conversation. A poorly made imitation of the happy family life they had just weeks before.

She hated it. God, she wished she could just stop. But she couldn't. Because the only thing worse than watching Izuku mope would be to join him. She couldn't pull him to his feet if she couldn't get herself off the ground.

She _had _to fix him.

It was her responsibility.

Himiko set the bowl of rice down on the table, a light clatter disrupting the relative silence as the soft scents of fish and miso mingle in the air. And, as she sat down, she allowed herself a small, weary sigh. She fumbled with her chopsticks, listlessly picking at her food as Izu-kun lifelessly went through the motions of preparing his meal.

It had been like this nearly every day, and it had been getting worse.

Every day that passed without him working was another day he slipped deeper into the bottomless cave he had trapped himself in. The first few days, he had mostly stayed in bed out of necessity; now he was simply doing it out of habit.

And Himiko needed to find a way to break that.

… What would he like to do outside? Training, if he could. But that wasn't working with the jogs, and it hadn't been working in the afternoons either.

Maybe go to the convenience store? They always liked getting snacks there, after all. She could probably scrounge up enough to get him one of those magazines he always liked, _'Heroes Digest.' _It had to be more interesting than that _'Conquest of loaves' _book, or whatever he was reading. Honestly she didn't know. But it could be a start? At least a way to get him out of the hou-

A loud yawn interrupted Himiko's thoughts, and her head jerked around at the sound, not unlike a surprised cat.

"Good morning, Himi-chan…" Mrs. Midoriya half stumbled into the dining room, her green hair hanging down in a tangled mess and the sleep not quite rubbed out of her eyes. She let out another yawn, a slow and round sound, before turning to the kitchen. But at the sight of her son, she seemed to freeze up, almost like a momentary panic.

It was a detail Himiko was certain not to miss.

"Oh, Izuku," And, just as quickly as she had seized up, Mrs. Midoriya was back to normal. "You're up early, you surprised me! Did you sleep well?"

"... Fine." Izu-kun gave the bare minimum of a response, not even looking up the bowl of rice he was pointlessly patting with the serving spoon. There wasn't any anger or disdain in his voice, just… hollowness. Himiko stared, a subtle fear in her wilted-sunflower eyes.

There was no drama. Nothing special. Mrs. Midoriya waddled into the kitchen, and Izu-kun wandered out, carrying his breakfast. The two continue on, following the trail of footsteps they knew they were supposed to. Yet, the dead air still pricked at Himiko's skin, a distinct discomfort emanating from Mrs. Midoriya.

The woman was nervous. Tense. Himiko didn't move a muscle, her pupils thin and a light scowl on her face. The chopsticks were balanced in her hand, hovering just above her bowl of rice.

Mrs. Midoriya hadn't suddenly started acting like this. No, it was gradual, the leaves of a tree browning and falling over the course of weeks. And, on days like today, it set in like a winter frost, cold and stiff to the touch.

The relationship between the two was rotting away, and Himiko wasn't quite sure how she felt. On one hand, the woman had given her a place to stay. It was something she could never repay. But on the other hand, she had blatantly rejected her, just like everyone else, and considering how she treated her Izu-kun after he got back from the hospital…

She clenched her chopsticks, but her tight lips didn't move.

After a few minutes, Mrs. Midoriya finally made her way to the table, letting out a sound between an exhausted sigh and weary grunt as she plopped down in her seat. For a few minutes, no one said a word, each of them too caught up inside of their own head.

At least, that's what Himiko assumed.

She was too trapped inside the empty depths of her own mind to notice anything else.

"So…" Mrs. Midoriya's soft voice quivered, somehow not quite able to truly break the silence. An uncomfortable and uncertain smile was drawn across her lips, so fake that Himiko was sure even Izu-kun could've done better. That did explain where the boy got his social skills, though. "Did Himiko finally drag you on a jog this morning?"

Izu-kun cast his eyes down in shame, shrinking away as if he could simply cease to exist, and Mrs. Midoriya stiffens, as though instantly realizing her mistake. Her smile flickers, and she attempts to fill the void with a nervous laugh.

A ball of heavy fire settled in HImiko's stomach, and she could barely restrain a glare. Why? Why did that woman do this? Why is she even here? Can't she see that she's only making Izu-kun feel worse? If she could just leave, just stop saying stupid things, maybe actually be a good mother-

Himiko let out a sad sigh.

… What was Himiko even thinking? Treating Mrs. Midoriya like an obstacle, a threat, it was the wrong way to go about it. She glanced up, catching sight of the woman's worried evergreen eyes.

She was trying to help. She genuinely was. And Himiko shouldn't take that for granted. She wanted to fix the broken boy across the table from her, and there wasn't a doubt in her mind she needed all the help she could get.

But what was she supposed to do? She had tried everything she could think of, and it had gone nowhere. Izu-kun had fallen down the well, and the fire in his eyes had died.

… Or was just hidden. Lord, she hoped it wasn't gone. She didn't want to lose her wolf.

… Maybe she had pushed him too far. Maybe she had been too greedy. And if _she _was the reason he fell apart…

She couldn't even bear to look at him, her heart tight as she picked at her eggs and rice. Outside, a group of lonely birds sang their morning songs.

Mrs. Midoriya coughed, an old strategy to subtly break an awkward silence that Himiko had never seen work. "How are you feeling, Izuku? Y-your injuries, that is."

Izu-kun took a deep breath, and sighed. "Alright, I think. The graft still hurts, and my muscles are sore, but other than that… I'm ok, I guess"

A smaller, more authentic smile came to Mrs. Midoriya's face. It wasn't the happy sort, not really, but the sort that someone wore after setting down something very heavy. "Good. The doctor said you should be recovered in time for the entrance exam, so I hope you're ready for that!" The older woman shot Himiko a pleading look, an unspoken request hanging between them.

Himiko wasn't quite able to look the woman in the eye, guilt tugging at her heart. Of course she was going to help. That would be the case no matter what, but… especially now, since she was part of the reason he ended up like this. She nervously licked her lips, letting her eyes linger on her bowl of rice.

… She'd have to take care of him. All the others had run off, after all, so she had to treasure him.

The green-haired boy nodded at his mother, very careful to not look at her. "... I'll try."

Mrs. Midoriya let out a soft sigh, the type that was filled with relief and motherly love. "I know you will."

Watching the quiet and kind interaction, something small and sharp pricked at Himiko's heart, a drop of dark anger. Her lips tightened, but she didn't scowl. Either Mrs. Midoriya was blind, or she simply didn't _want_ to see just how broken her son was. There was no way that she couldn't see how depressed he was, how dead and hollow that statement was. But somehow, she hadn't seen it, and Himiko didn't have an answer as to why.

Whatever that answer might be, Himiko could feel her faith in the woman crumbling. Or, at least, whatever of it was left after how she had treated Izu-kun in the fight's aftermath.

"... Izuku, I wanted to tell you something." For a moment, her voice hangs in the air, the warmth from before melting away to reveal a more solemn tone. Her mouth hangs somewhere between open and closed, her mind carefully collecting her thoughts before she began. "I'm planning to enroll you in the Musutafu Special Needs Academy. The paperwork is already submitted"

She said it so quickly, so simply, that the words' meaning almost didn't register in Himiko's mind. But they most certainly did in Izu-kun's.

The green-haired boy freezes, his chopsticks precariously balanced in his hand and his dull green eyes slowly becoming sharper, a tree being woken from its winter hibernation by a flood.

A-

A special needs academy?

As the words sunk in, Himiko's mind only spun more, as though it was news for her and not for her companion.

That's a school for the disabled, right? 'Special needs' is just a nicer way of saying 'messed up,' right? Like, that's what they meant whenever the doctors called her that, and-

Himiko shivered at the thought of what those schools might do. She had never been to one, but if they were anything like what Aunt Iku had dragged her to-

He didn't deserve that. N-no one deserved that. And it wasn't like he was _really _disabled, just quirkless. It was a minor disability, and he could still live normally, so to force him into a school like that would just be…

Cruel.

As the initial shock faded, that dark drop in her heart started to spread, inky anger making soft swirls as it mixed with her hot blood.

There was a brief moment of stiff silence before Izu-kun snapped back to reality, his head shooting up. "W-what?!"

"I've been thinking a lot over these past two weeks." Mrs. Midoriya was speaking calmly and quietly, unable to lift her gaze from her shoes. "I've had to make some hard decisions. Izuku, I'm not going to force you to apologize to Katsuki. I've been talking with Mitsuki, and while we still don't agree on everything… Even she acknowledges that Katsuki probably started it. And, I've seen the other bruises, from all the other times. It's just... I think it'll be better this way, so you can focus on your education."

"And so you're just going to send me to a school for the disabled?" Izu-kun's eyes jutted back and forth, quickly shifting between Mrs. Midoriya, Himiko, and empty air. WIth the rug so suddenly pulled out from under him, he sputtered, attempting to find solid ground and respond. "Mom, what about U.A.? If you're planning to send me there, then why am I even preparing for the entrance exam?"

"Well, I…" The woman swallowed and bit her lip, fiddling with her fingers as she scrambled for a gentle way to deflect the question. "I just want to see you pursue your dreams."

Look at him.

Look at him while you lie to him.

You-

You at least owe him that!

Himiko soundlessly growled, gritting her teeth between sealed lips.

She was lying to his face, tearing his dream in half even as she said she cared! Saying he should chase his dreams, but at the same time, saying he's too weak to even attend a regular school, let alone a hero academy!

Himiko hated liars.

She hated liars more than anyone else.

And Mrs. Midoriya, despite her round face and soft voice, was a liar too.

… At least Mama had been honest when she threw Himiko away.

"My _dream _is to be a hero..." A set of chopsticks was gently set on the table, but they were set there with panicked precision, not calm carefulness. He spoke quietly, almost a mumble, but there was an edge in his voice, as though the words were only a secondary priority to whatever was happening inside his head. And Himiko would believe that, seeing the calculations and recalculations behind his uncertain eyes. Even as he spoke, his lips made more words than his voice, muttering dozens of unintelligible phrases under his breath. "... And I _can't _get that certification unless I go to a hero academy like U.A."

The woman -_ the liar _\- glanced up, offering a concerned scowl. "There are other ways to help people, Izuku." She reached across the table, attempting to set her hand on Izu-kun's.

It was as though he had been stung.

"You-!" He jerked back, the cloudy confusion melting away in less than an instant to reveal panic. "Mom, you didn't even ask! I don't want those 'other ways,' I want to be a hero! All of these months, I've been training, and studying, and-"

"It's too _dangerous_, Izuku!" She cut him off, fear and desperation in her voice. "Look at yourself! Look at how hurt you are! Izuku, I couldn't stand to see you get hurt anymore! And even if the fight wasn't your fault, I can only ever imagine what would happen if there was an actual villain that wanted to kill you!"

"But-!"

"No buts! No excuses! I-!" her words cut off halfway, as though the pipe to her vocal chords was suddenly closed. But, at the pause, she hesitated, and drooped a bit. There was pain in her eyes, uncertainty and discomfort. She was doing what she thought was best, even if she didn't like it.

Squeezing her fists, Mrs. Midoriya steeled herself and continued. "... Izuku, I want to see you succeed. I really do. And I believe in you. But, if you were to ever get hurt again…"

Himiko could see it. She had seen it wearing at the woman over the past few weeks, a weight on her chest that only got heavier and heavier. And Himiko didn't need to be a psychologist to see what she was feeling.

Guilt. She was feeling guilty. And, in some ways, Himiko could sympathize, but…

It made Himiko no less angry. Her cat-like eyes were filled with an ocean of fury, hot and golden like iron in a forge. Because, no matter what the woman said, she stood against her son when it really counted.

"... You don't believe in me." The steel in Izu-kun's voice cut like a razor, cold and quiet.

The woman flinched, taking in a sharp breath before forcing a weak smile. "Honey, of course I believe in-"

"No you don't!" Izu-kun leapt to his feet, his bowl of rice clattering onto the table and red-hot anger spilling from his lips. "You've never believed in me! It was always there, I just didn't want to see it! I wanted to think that you supported me, that you actually thought I could, but you don't! You don't think I can be a hero, you don't even think I can be _normal! _You treat me like some sort of glass doll, like I can't be trusted to take care of myself!"

"I've always want to help yo-"

"Then why didn't you? Why _don't _you?" Hateful tears began to build in his eyes, his jaw clenched and his fists shaking. "When Katsuki attacked me, were you there to help? Were you there to stand up for me, to tell the school it wasn't my fault? That it was self defence? No!"

For an instant, no one said anything, as though Izu-kun had been expecting a response. But Mrs. Midoriya was reeling from her son's explosion, and Himiko was watching in amazement.

His anger.

It was back.

She had to resist a giddy smile.

Maybe her wolf _wasn't _gone.

Izu-kun's voice dropped low, dripping with poison. "Mom, you _blamed _me. You sided against me."

"I- I know, and I'm sorry. But I'm trying to make things right, because I love-"

"You're not doing this out of love. Don't say that, Mom. That makes it hurt more." His rage was dark and quiet, smoldering coals that made no light but burnt as hot as any fire. "You're doing this out of guilt. You're doing this because you can't stand to watch me break even more. You've always had this look in your eyes, a guilt, as though I'm your broken little kid, and it's your fault. As though I'm destined to fail, and all you can do is try and soften the blow."

His mother didn't respond at first, simply biting her lip and fumbling to clean up the table a bit. Even with her son fuming, she still tried to neaten up the bowl of rice he dropped. And, as she scooped the rice into her palm, she tried to speak.

"... I just want to protect you. You're… You're my baby."

"I'm not broken. I'm not defective." Izu-kun dropped into his seat with a thud, still furious but with nothing else to say. "And you need to stop treating me like I am."

A dead silence settled in the room, the air so thick it hurt to breathe. Izu-kun glared at his breakfast, picking at whatever didn't spill from his bowl. Mrs. Midoriya quickly fetched a cloth, wiping the table and wordlessly offering to take Himiko's empty bowl to the sink. The blonde passed it over, but her eyes never left her companion.

He was still angry.

Undoubtedly trying to plan and scheme his way out of this situation.

… Was he going to do something stupid?

No, no, he wouldn't.

But even if he did, it wouldn't matter. Because now, he was at least doing more than just moping.

It was exactly the chance Himiko needed to rebuild him. Of course, that anger, that _energy_, was worthless unless purposefully directed at something, or someone. She could use it, to mould him into someone stronger. And, should she want to harness that…

Her eyes drifted to the kitchen, the hot fury draining to be replaced with cold analysis as she looked over the pudgy woman rinsing dishes.

Himiko had a few ideas. Unless the proper chance presented itself, she would need to do some preparations of her own. But she would be certain to give her wolf back his strength.

A cheerful smile came to her face, completely fake but completely natural. "Hey Izu-kun, do ya wanna go to the mall after school?"

"Huh?" He glanced at her, a bit of confusion in his eyes.

"I gotta get a haircut and all, and with spring coming up, I thought maybe we could go shopping for clothes. You need out of the house, and you're due for some fun, after all!" Himiko shot Mrs. Midoriya a look, not a word needed to get her point across.

An offer of an alliance, per se. Himiko would provide the calm perspective that Izu-kun trusted, a way to get him out of the house and back into the land of the living. And Mrs. Midoriya would provide the tools to do it, a bit of cash and just enough of a blind eye to let them 'get away' with something minor.

The woman quickly nodded, sealing the deal.

"I think that would be nice!" Setting down the dishes, Mrs. Midoriya pasted a small smile onto her very uncomfortable expression. "I can give the two of you a bit of cash for it, if you want to go!"

Izu-kun furrowed his eyebrows and opened his mouth to speak, but Himiko gave him her most excited smile, and the words seemed to die in his throat. "O-okay."

"Good!" Mrs. Midoriya cheered, a bit too enthusiastic, and reached over, snagging her purse and rummaging through it for her wallet. She handed Himiko a few thousand yen and shoved the wallet back in the purse, beginning to meander back towards the hallway. "Well, I have to go get ready for work! And, Izuku…"

The woman slowed to a stop, and Himiko could see it in her eyes again, that ever-present guilt the blonde had quickly come to hate.

"... I'm sorry."

The parent headed back to her room, but Himiko's eyes never left her.

She wasn't looking at Mrs. Midoriya.

She was glowering at her.

_'A set of deep crimson eyes, broken but kind. Defeated, but happy. Streams of grief-stricken tears, but also a relieved smile. But still, she refused to look at Himiko. "I'm sorry, Himi. I've been a terrible mom, haven't I?"'_

Himiko's emotions about her mother were complicated. But how she felt about Mrs. Midoriya was very simple.

She hated her.

)ooOoo(

Izuku was uncomfortable.

… Well, considering the past two weeks, that wasn't saying much. It was basically impossible to get comfortable with his injuries, even with most of them practically healed.

So maybe what he should've said was he was _more _uncomfortable.

He shifted on the bench, a long white box made that fit perfectly with the clothing store's sleek, trendy aethstetic. But, since it was little more than a white plastic prism, with sharp corners and no back, it also made it impossible to get comfortable on.

… That actually made a lot of sense. What was it called? Uncomfortable design? No, _unpleasant _design. That was it. They probably didn't want people just hanging around in the shop, considering how small the mall store was. If nothing else, Izuku could definitely assure them that their efforts were working; he wanted out of this place as soon as possible. If it wasn't because of the bench, it was probably because of the lingerie section just to his left.

"H-Himiko?" He fidgeted, his cheeks tinged just the faintest red as he looked over to the changing booth across from him. "Are you almost done in there?"

"Almooost!" The girl's off-kilter voice fluttered out from the stall, it's sing-songy tone confirming Izuku's worst fear: she was in absolutely no rush.

Izuku sighed, resigned to his fate. Himiko had wanted spring clothes, and Mom had been more than glad to volunteer him to help. And so, when school finished, he met the girl at the normal 7/11, where they grabbed a snack before heading to the mall. It was just a shopping trip, right? It was supposed to be pretty short. And after, he could head home and… Well, he didn't know. Relax? That sounded like the best word to use, or at least, a lot better than saying 'do nothing.'

Of course, that had been nearly three hours ago.

Pulling out his phone, he opened up a news app, and began flipping through recent articles. There weren't any big news reports, not today at least. The Equalist Party held their national convention in Fukuoka, a hero alliance in Sapporo was caught embezzling money from the National Hero Support Fund, a variety of smaller, less noticeable things. It was… well, for lack of a better word, a normal day. Almost mundane.

Rolling his shoulders, he gave a tired groan and looked around, his sore eyes searching for something somewhat interesting. He probably shouldn't have stayed up so late last night… And sleeping for a good part of the day only made him feel worse… His whole body felt like trash, and his brain was as clear as a wadded up ball of used tissues.

Carefully trying to avoid looking at the lingerie, and even more carefully trying to ignore the blush on his face, Izuku's gaze eventually settled on a fold out table set up in the middle of the mall, just outside the store Izuku was sitting in. No one seemed to be paying attention to the girl staffing it, who had a spattering of freckles and fluffy midnight-blue hair. It wasn't very interesting, but… there wasn't really much else to he could see outside the store, and absolutely _nothing _in the store he was willing to stare at. So, he set his chin in his palm, listlessly watching the girl go through the seemingly well practiced motions.

A person walked by, and she gave them an artificially cheerful greeting. She tried to force a flyer into their hands, but they end up ignoring it and continuing on. She pauses, but then moves on to the next person.

Rinse and repeat.

It was like one of those videos he'd see online, where a pattern continued endlessly. Visual white noise.

What was she even handing out flyers for? She wasn't dressed like an employee, just a loose hoodie and some casual jeans. He squinted, taking a better look at the sign through the window.

_'VOTE EQUALIST THIS OCTOBER!'_

The Equalists? Here?

Izuku almost couldn't believe it.

They had a strong base in Kyushu and Tokyo, but outside of there, they were practically nonexistent, and-

Wait, if that was for October, that meant they were canvassing for the parliament elections, and that meant they had a parliamentary candidate for Musutafu! He hadn't heard about that online at all, which is surprising considering how much he monitored all the party's stuff, but this was great! He felt a light smile coming to his face as he pushed himself up, his stiff joints complaining. Could he go talk to them? Izuku tossed a quick glance back at Himiko's changing room, but really, was he expecting her to be done? He could go, maybe grab a flyer, and-

"Izuuu-kun!" Himiko's playful voice interrupted his thoughts, as though she had been peering inside his head and decided to intervene.

Slowly, almost like a child caught by a parent trying to sneak away, Izuku turned back to face the changing room."Y-yes?"

"Can ya hand me the cute blue shirt on the bench?" The door to the changing room creaked open, Himiko's lithe hand snaking out and pointing in the vague direction of the bench Izuku had been sitting on. Her tone was coy, almost teasing, as though there was more than just the literal meaning of her words.

Izuku was suddenly very concerned.

He made his way to the bench at a slow pace, half out of an effort not to irritate his freshly-healed wounds, and half out of suspicion. What was she planning? She had to be planning something. That tone of voice, that teasing and sly tone, she only had it when she was going to pull something.

There didn't seem to be anything special about the pile of shirts. A scattering, maybe five of them, all of them bulky long-sleeved shirts. Was there something in them? Under them? His green eyes slightly narrowed, Izuku's hand hovered just above the pile of shirts.

And then he noticed one key detail he missed.

"... Uh, which one?" There were three blue shirts.

"Hm?" Her cool voice responded, a questioning tone lingering.

"W-which shirt?" He felt a small blush coming on, a light searing on his cheeks. He was overthinking this. He had to be. She was planning something, but all she was asking for was for him to grab a shirt. What would she even be able to do? Was this how paranoid two weeks of being cooped up had made him? Maybe that was why-

… Maybe that was why he had snapped at Mom.

As quickly as his blush had appeared, it was gone, replaced with a sinking feeling in his chest. He shouldn't have done that. He wasn't _wrong_, not really. He wasn't some fragile, broken thing to be taken care of. He was his own person, and he wasn't going to that school. He would stand by that.

But… He shouldn't have said it like he had. Over the past few weeks, he had simply tuned everything out. Himiko, Mom, everything. But now, he could remember his mom's guilty eyes in painful detail. She had been feeling terrible, and was trying to fix it. Maybe it was a low bar, but it seemed like she didn't blame him anymore. And besides, she was doing all of this because she cared, and he couldn't deny that.

He just wished she cared enough to actually help him.

"Hm…" Himiko's light hum brought reality back to the forefront of Izuku's mind. For a moment, she seemed to weigh her options. But finally, she let out a carefree laugh, a sound like butterfly wings flapping. "Whichever one you think would look cutest on me!"

The one that looked cutest on her? Well, he'd probably have to see her wearing each one, but if he had to choose one, it would have to be-

Wait, what sort of guideline was that!?

Izuku stiffened up, suddenly that much more aware that he was tucked behind the lingerie section of a girls' clothing outlet. The cutest? How was he even supposed to know that? He barely understood male beauty standards, let alone female ones! How was he supposed to pick the 'cutest' of them if he could barely tell the difference between them? And besides, if he was going to choose something for Himiko to wear, he wouldn't have chosen blue, she looked a lot better in oranges, since it went with her eyes. All of these shirts would just look wrong with her, in terms of color, at least, so he would have to go pick out a nice sunset or autumn orange shirt, a long sleeve sweater or cardigan probably. Maybe a black skirt or pants to go with it, and...

Izuku paused, realizing that he was internally ranting about clothing. He shook his head, feeling silly. Just, which one of the shirts did he think looked best? That was all she wanted to know. He gave them a brief glance, before finally picking one.

Stepping up to the changing room door, he softly knocked and held out the shirt. "Here you go, Hi-"

The door shot open, and something snatched his wrist, dragging him in before he could even finish the sentence. The shirt dropped from his hands, and his back slammed hard against the hard wooden wall, stunning him.

She had been planning something! He had seen it coming! Stupid, stupid, stupid! A set on hands, tipped with sharp nails, carefully wandered his torso, and Izuku pressed back against the wall as much as he could, his eyes firmly squeezed shut. Himiko was so close, he could feel her body heat in the slightly-too-cold mall air, and a hot blush began burning his cheeks.

Okay, okay, calm down! He's obviously not in danger. Himiko wouldn't risk fighting him here, right? He knew that she wanted him to start training soon, but not even she would do that. They could get arrested! So, why did she do this? Why did she drag him into a changing room with-

His chaotic thoughts were interrupted by a sharp gasp, Himiko tracing his adam's apple with one finger.

"H-Himiko," He hissed at her, careful not to raise his voice and alert the store clerks. "What are you doing?!"

Himiko giggled, the soft touch of her hands disappearing but her coy voice getting much closer to his ear. "Experimenting with my little wolf!"

What does that even mean?! Izuku shifted, attempting to put at least some space between the two of them, but it was useless in the cramped changing room. He shuffled, but Himiko moved with him, and-

They both froze, the sounds of firm footsteps approaching. An employee? It had to be! Himiko had slammed him into a wall, he would've been surprised if the people _outside_ the store hadn't heard!

"Ma'am?" The clerk spoke up, and she sounded like an older lady, probably the sort who had seen a good deal of mischief in her store. "Are you okay in there?"

Izuku stiffened, holding his breath as though a single sound could alert the woman. And it probably would! How would Mom react if she found out about this? Oh All Might, he didn't even want to think about that!

"Yep! I'm A-okay in here!" Himiko responded with her typical cheery voice, as though she wasn't hiding her boyfriend in a changing room of a mall store. The fact that his eyes were closed only made it so much worse, but he'd rather go blind than risk opening his eyes at the wrong time.

"Okay, but do tell me if you need anything!" The clerk shouted back through the door, but soon enough, Izuku could hear the distinct sound of footsteps leaving.

He let out a relieved breath.

For just a brief moment, nothing moved, as though both of them were recovering from the clerk's interruption. Well, that's what Izuku assumed. With his eyes closed and Himiko completely silent, there was only so much Izuku could know. But, from the way she clung to him, he could feel how tense she was.

If it was any other situation, he would've reached out to hug her. But at that moment, he was afraid to even move.

"... Well, uh," Izuku's voice wavered, and his eyes were starting to hurt from being squeezed shut for too long. "A-are you dressed?"

"Nope!" There was obvious, teasing amusement in Himiko's voice, which only made Izuku more nervous. S-so, he was stuck in a changing room, with his girlfriend, who wasn't dressed? That couldn't be right, could it? That- that had to be- but Himiko wouldn't lie, so-

Oh All Might.

Izuku's face was burning, and his heart was under so much strain it felt like it would pop.

"Wha-?! H-Himiko, please let me out!"

"Not until you open your eyes."

"What?"

"Open your eyes, and I'll let you out."

"N-no! Then I'd be peeking on you, and-"

"And what if I want you to?" She spoke quietly, right into his ear. There was something in her tone, something sly and cat-like. He could feel her pressing against him, her hands resting on his hip and shoulder as she teased him out of his shell. His breath was shaky and hot, and he almost felt lightheaded.

H-he wanted to, in some ways. He wanted to open his eyes and see her, all of her. Oh, even thinking that made him feel sick, like his stomach was twisting itself into tight, nervous knots. He couldn't! It was that simple! He couldn't be ready for that, a-and, what would come after? What would happen after he opened his eyes? If he knew Himiko, it wouldn't end there! But… If she wouldn't let him out otherwise…

It was a good enough excuse to pacify his uncertainty.

He took in a sharp breath, and pointlessly tried to swallow his nerves. "... Are you sure..?"

"Mm-hmmm" She spoke slowly and warmly, a lazy cat waiting for it's meal to wander into its mouth.

Slowly, hesitantly, he let his eyes open. His heart thudded in his chest, and he knew for a fact his pants crotch didn't typically feel that tight. Oh, he didn't feel prepared for this, but he had to, and-

And she was completely clothed, in her typical beige cardigan, actually, with a massive, amused smile on her face.

First, Izuku was confused. And then, he felt something he did not expect: disappointment.

Himiko burst out laughing, clutching her stomach as she took a step back. "You wanted to see me naked, didn't you?"

"N-no, you made me do it, and-" He tried desperately to deny it, but the painfully hot pressure in his cheeks made the efforts mute.

"I saw the look in your eyes, it was adorable!"

"I swear, I didn't mean that-!"

Izuku was suddenly cut off with a hug, the gentle but firm sort of someone that didn't want to hold on too hard, but didn't dare risk letting go. Burying her face in the nape of his neck, she drew him in close, taking a deep breath and sighing. Was…

Was she relieved?

Izuku didn't understand. But that didn't stop him from returning the hug with gentle arms.

"I love you, Izu-kun." One of her hands reached up to the base of his neck, curling a lock of his hair around her finger. "Thank you."

Why was she acting this way? It was like…

Like she was afraid.

"... For what?"

"For coming. For getting out of the house. I was worried." Her voice was soft and muffled, getting lost in his shoulder on the way to his ears. Why was she acting like this? It was so-

… No, Izuku could understand.

He just hadn't thought about it.

He had seen how Mom had been impacted by it. The guilt that was tearing at her every day, the way it was hurting her. But what he hadn't thought about was Himiko.

Himiko had always been good at hiding her emotions. If she wanted to seem happy, she typically could look the part, even if she was falling apart on the inside. If Izuku didn't pay attention, he would completely miss what she was truly feeling, seeing nothing more than the mask on the surface. And, over the past two weeks, it would be an understatement to say 'he wasn't paying attention.'

God, he was stupid.

He ran a hand through her knotted blond hair, and kissed her forehead. "Thank you for bringing me."

Himiko looked up at him and chuckled, a soft sound. "Wanna know what the best part is?"

"What?" Izuku smiled warmly, letting his worries slip away. Looking into her loving sunflower eyes, he could forget everything for a moment. His argument with his mom, the change in schools, the upcoming entrance exam, all of that could fade into the background.

"When I had dragged you in," She gave a wide grin, showing off her sharp teeth. "You stretched out your neck."

"... Huh?" He furrowed his eyebrows, an uncertain frown on his face. What did she mean, he stretched out his neck?

"When you were against the wall, you stretched out your neck, letting me see all of it. As though you were expecting something. As though you _wanted_ something." Slowly, with a tentative touch, Himiko reached out to touch his neck. Her cool fingers traced along his neck, right along the small, rift-like scar she had left him. A set of yellow eyes lingered, before flickering up at him. "... Do you?"

Izuku's breath caught in his throat.

He should say no.

That's obvious.

Mom had told them no biting, and outside of the night after the fight, the pair had held to that. It was just safer to follow the rules, to stick with what was normal.

But he _wanted_ to say yes.

He was past the point of claiming he didn't enjoy it. Past the point of claiming it didn't feel amazing to have the girl's teeth tear into him, that the thought her fangs didn't make his heart beat just a bit faster. But Mom had said it was wrong, and-

Well, even there, he didn't agree. He didn't think it was wrong. He… He didn't _care _if it was wrong. It wasn't like the others would accept him anyways. It made him feel more connected with Himiko, and really, she was the only one that cared for him.

At least, cared enough to actually help him.

Maybe it was wrong.

Maybe it wasn't the safest thing.

But, in that moment, looking into Himiko's knife-like eyes…

He didn't care about any of that.

His head twisted, very intentionally giving Himiko a full view. "I, uh…" He swallowed a bit, not quite able to form words.

"Hm?" She cocked her head, as if she didn't understand. She did, though. He could see it in her eyes. Half the time, she seemed to know exactly what he was going to do, even before he did. But she wanted him to say more.

"Y-" He sputtered, his throat tight and his voice small. "Yes… Please."

In that moment, Izuku saw something very distinct in Himiko's eyes. Approval? Desire? Possessiveness? Some odd mixture of the three that Izuku found… both terrifying and alluring.

It was scary.

And yet, it also felt far more natural than any other expression she could've worn.

One moment, she was simply looking at him.

And in the next, a set of teeth was digging into his flesh, hot and cold mixing together as electricity shot up and down his spine. Waves of pain and pleasure roiled and stirred, filling his mind like a desert field flooding from the monsoon rains. His mouth made silent screams, and all of his muscles seemed to be misfiring, pistons in an engine with too much fuel. Her tongue ran across his skin between bites, and his fingers dug into her back and shoulders.

Finally, Himiko came up for air.

It wasn't long. Barely a nibble compared to their other sessions. But it had left them both breathing heavily, as though Izuku had just restarted his workout schedule. And, above all…

It had felt freeing.

Genuinely freeing.

Between small gasps, Himiko licked and kissed at the series of bite marks on his shoulder, and Izuku made sure to give her space to do it comfortably.

Himiko was crazy. She had no self control, it seemed, and was willing to do anything just about anywhere. She ignored the rules she didn't like, and marched to her own drum.

Watching her with the fondness of a wolf and his mate, Izuku had to admit. That's what he loved about her. She did what she enjoyed, and what she thought was right. They looked like complete opposites. But really, they were the same. Rulebreakers that did what they thought was right.

"So…" It took a bit, but Himiko did eventually catch her breath. "Which sweater is the cutest?"

Which was cutest? He thought about the three sweaters, his weary mind considering the options. But, with an uncomfortable chuckle, he chose the obvious answer.

"... I liked the orange one from earlier."

Himiko laughed. "Me too!"

)ooOoo(

Izuku was honestly surprised it had gone so smoothly.

They had neatened up, slipped out of the changing room, and easily went through the checkout line, buying one of the blue shirts and one of the orange ones. It had been hard to ignore the nervous thudding of his heart as he looked the store clerk in the eye, pretend he hadn't just been hiding away in a cramped room with his partner. But, the old lady didn't even seem to notice. They had done it.

"Have a good day, you two! And, young man," As she handed Himiko the bag of clothes, the old lady gave Izuku a sly smile and a wink. "You two aren't the least bit quiet. But I'd hate to cause issues for young love, so just don't do it again. Treat her well."

It took a few moments for Izuku to compute what the old woman had said. But the moment it clicked, Izuku's face bloomed red, and his mouth tried to sputter out any words it could think of. "Y-yes Ma'am! I'll do my best!"

"I'm sure you will." The lady giggled, the sweet old sort that made Izuku think of grandmas exchanging gossip. "Now hurry up, she's leaving!"

Izuku gave a jerky nod. Was that enough? No, no, not at all. Throwing himself into a deep bow, he quickly scurried to catch up with Himiko outside the shop.

"What'd she say?" Himiko bumped shoulders with him as soon as he arrived, holding the bag of clothes behind her back as she casually began her orbit around him. Such a natural movement, so habitual that Izuku simply moved with her, a set of twin planets falling into place.

"Uh, well…" Izuku licked his lips, fiddling with and pulling on his fingers in a desperate attempt to let out fidgety energy. "N-nothing…"

Himiko rolled her head, showing an amused grin. "You're a baaad liar, Izu-kun."

Izuku paused, but gave a small nod. "... Yeah."

Himiko could only giggle at the confession, not hiding her sharp smile as she ruffled his messy green hair.

"So," The blonde jerked her head in the direction of the Equalist Party table, or more specifically, the blue-haired girl staffing it. "Who's that?"

"Huh?" Izuku glanced at the girl, furrowing his eyebrows. She was settled on a stool beside the table, seemingly taking a break as she nursed a bottle of water. He shrugged, taking a moment to try, and fail, to neaten his hair. "Oh, I don't know."

Himiko looked between the girl and Izuku, a bit of humor lingering in her warm eyes. "Didn't I just tell you you're a bad liar?" 

"N-no, I actually don't know."

"Really?"

"Really!'

"So…" She shifted her head back and forth, balancing on her heel as she attempted to solve the riddle. "Why do you keep looking over at her?" 

"Well, you see the table?" Izuku pointed at the large sign, unconcerned as he explained. "It's for the Equalist Party. I just didn't know they were active in Musutafu."

Himiko quirked a curious eyebrow, watching the booth carefully. "You're interested in them?"

There it was again, that cold analytical look she got occasionally, the sort that drained all of the emotion from her body for a moment before she snapped back to normal. It had been nearly a year, and Izuku had yet to figure out exactly what that was, or what exactly the inside of her head looked like. He nodded, a bit hesitant. "Yeah, I suppose-"

"Then let's take a looksie!" Without waiting for confirmation, she began half-marching, half dancing towards the table, and Izuku stumbled behind her, sticking close.

About halfway from the table, the girl seemed to suddenly notice the pair, and fumbled to put down the water bottle and grab the flyers. As soon as the two teens got within a few strides, the girl gave a big smile and held out a sheet to Himiko.

"Hi! Are you registered to vote…" She paused and chuckled awkwardly, but the smile didn't disappear from her face. "... Well, probably not. You look a bit young."

"Yep!" Himiko accepted the two flyers, passing off one to Izuku. The boy gave it a quick look over, but quickly realized it wasn't really for him, considering how a good portion of it was about registering to vote. "Can't vote for another four years! Just curious!"

The two girls made smalltalk for a moment, but Izuku held back, simply taking a moment to look at everything. The table was covered end-to-end in supplies and advertisements, flyers and pamphlets to magazines and even a few smaller items like stickers and pens. Despite how he'd never even seen the Equalists before in Musutafu, they seemed to have at least the funding to cover quite a bit of merchandise. Glancing over, he caught sight of the paper name tag stuck to The girl's chest; 'Futsuko.' She had to be a teenager, no older than nineteen at most. Her dark blue hair hung down just past her shoulders, falling with the sort of fluffiness that gave her permanent bedhead, and a smattering of freckles covered her pale cheeks. Izuku silently stuck to the background, sifting through the organized stacks of stuff and plucking a pen out of the coffee cup they were set in.

"Feel free to grab that! We have plenty!" Futsuko broke off her conversation with Himiko for a moment, giving Izuku a salesman's smile before turning back to the girl. "But anyways, the coordinator told me to ask everyone about registering, but it seems the only people interested are the ones that can't vote." She laughed, her voice carrying the dry tone of someone who didn't want to admit how hard disappointment was on their nerves.

"Yeah, s-sorry about that. I know we're probably wasting your time…" Izuku gave a weak smile, joining the conversation. They were probably not helping the woman, after all, considering how they were years off from voting. He was interested in the party, definitely, but that was all; it wasn't like he could do anything about it. He fiddled with the pen, reading the magazine headlines in an attempt to not look up.

"Hey, hey," Futsuko clicked her tongue and held up a hand, as if to wave off the thoughts going through his head. "Never apologize for being interested in something. I can't vote yet either."

Izuku's head shot up, a bit of surprise in his wide eyes. "Wait, really?"

She offered an uncomfortable chuckle, and nodded, her hands naturally slipping into her hoodie pockets. "Yeah, I'm only seventeen."

Seventeen!? He would've sworn she had to be older! She was hosting this table after all, and weren't there rules about that? Izuku… didn't actually know. And besides, if she couldn't even vote...

"... Why are you doing this?" He cocked his head, genuinely curious. He had always watched politics from afar. For most of his life, it was because it had only been tangentially related to heros; laws and regulations, all the important technical stuff. He had always kept a close eye on the Equalists, since they always hammered heros on things like accountability and extra regulations. Before, it was mostly with… well, confusion and dislike. After all, all that red tape on heros would just make their job of helping people harder, right? And sometimes they did make mistakes, but they were in a dangerous job.

His views had evolved some since then.

After a moment of consideration, Futsuko simply shrugged, curling a strand of her hair around one finger. "Well, I wanna help somehow. I can't expect things to change by doing nothing."

"Definitely!" Himiko broke into the conversation, enthusiastically endorsing the woman's - girl's? Izuku didn't know which word to use. - comment. "My Izu-kun is wanting to become a hero!"

"Oh really?" Futsuko raised a curious eyebrow, a sly grin on her face as she looked the kid over. "That's awesome! What sort of quirk do ya have?"

"Oh, uh…" Izuku froze up for a moment, hesitance creeping into the corners of his mind. He didn't want to be laughed at. She may be part of the Equalists, but really, that didn't mean much. She had been alive for more than a day, so she would know without a doubt that he didn't have a chance. But… Well, it wouldn't be anything new. He pasted on a strained smile, and pulled at his collar, trying to breathe a bit easier. "I'm quirkless"

"More power to ya!" The volunteer didn't miss a beat, giving a big thumbs up. "We need more people like you out there!"

… Why was she being encouraging? Izuku didn't react to her comment, his expression falling. Was this like with Mom, how she'd say something she didn't believe in the slightest? He sighed, looking down at himself.

He was a mess. There was no point in skirting that detail. Scrawny, quirkless, and still bearing a few marks from his fight. The only people who would have confidence in him were the blind, liars, and Himiko.

He frowned, letting his concern and disillusion show in his eyes as he looked at Futsuko. "... Do you really think I can do it? Or are you just saying that?"

For a moment, Futsuko didn't react. But then, her smile died a bit, as though she had seen the ghost of someone she'd lost. "I'll be honest, I have no idea. But I'm not gonna make it better by saying you can't. And besides, I gotta have faith in you. No one had any faith in me when I tried."

What? What did that mean?

Izuku clutched the pen in his hand. "When you tried?"

"Confirmed quirkless, and confirmed to have absolutely bombed the U.A. entrance exam!" She laughed, the sad sort that tried to hide regret with humor. But there was a smile on her face nevertheless, something that Izuku couldn't connect with the words coming out of her mouth.

"Wait, really?!" Almost as soon as he understood what she said, the doubt in his mind fizzled, replaced with surprise and excitement. Not just another quirkless, but another one that wanted to be a hero! He could barely believe it, and the smile on his face showed it.

"Yep. Called myself 'Nightwitch.' I, uh…" Her grin became self-deprecating, but more authentic, like looking through a photo album of embarrassing pictures. "I was an awkward tween."

"That's awesome!" His burst of energy blew through the woman's uncertainty, a dozen questions suddenly coming to mind. "Why did you want to become a hero? Did you get any training? What sort of combat did you use? Himiko has mostly been teaching me close-quarters knife fighting, and I've tinkered with throwing knives, and..."

Futsuko nodded in mild surprise and approval, her attention once again directed towards Izuku's blond companion. "Knives, really? I mostly used stuff like parkour and hand-to-hand, which, uh… Did _not_ work well in the entrance exam. Doesn't really get the job done on robots. So, what sorta hero name are ya thinking of using?"

"A hero name?" Izuku's train of thought came to a screeching halt, the questions he had left suddenly put on hold. He hadn't even bothered with hero names. Like, he had written stuff like 'All Might Jr.' in his older notebooks, but not only was that embarrassing to remember, but he couldn't imagine himself after another hero anymore. He just didn't admire them in that way anymore.

"Yeah, a hero name." Taking a brief moment to neaten up the table, Futsuko repeated herself. "It's one of the most important things for any hero. Kinda defines what you want the public to see you as."

Izuku knew that, but it didn't make the question any easier. He glanced over at Himiko, but her smile held no answers. But, really, he had to answer it eventually.

"I'll… I'll have to think about it." He coughed, attempting to change the subject. "But, you failed the exam?"

The woman finally finished organizing the various stacks of paper, picking up the stack of flyers as she turned back to Izuku. "Yeah, sadly."

"So… what did you do?"

If Izuku failed, he genuinely wasn't sure what he'd do. He had never even considered the option. No, he _refused_ to consider the option. But, with his fight with Katsuki on record, he had to be worried about getting into U.A. even if he _did _pass the exam.

And so, seeing someone like Futsuko felt… odd.

She had failed. But she at least seemed to have moved on.

And Izuku wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Futsuko took a deep breath, and gave a weary smile, the tired sort of someone who always worked too hard and never got enough sleep. She gestured at the table, tapping on a magazine with her hand. "This."

There was a bit of quiet, the only sounds being those of the shuffling mall-goers, but then she looked back at Izuku. "Izu-kun, was it?"

"O-oh, uh-!" Izuku blushed, glancing over at Himiko. "I-Izuku. She just gave me a nickname, and…"

"Oh, sorry!" Futsuko laughed at her mistake, but continued on. "Well, Izuku, things don't always go according to plan. That's just how life works. It's hard, and especially for quirkless or mutants. Have to deal with the cards life dealt us, after all."

She paused, and sighed. For a moment, Izuku could see something in her dark eyes, a sadness, a…

A loneliness.

She hadn't gotten over it. Maybe she had kept going, but failure was failure, and it hurt. Izuku understood that feeling intimately, and seeing that in someone else made his heart ache.

Futsuko scowled, her lips becoming a thin line. "When I was rejected, I had a choice. Either give up, or try and use what I had. I'm not strong, or rich, or powerful. But i got a knack for writing, so now I write articles for Equalist Youth." She slapped one of the magazines, a thin paper one that looked to be printed on low quality paper.

She passed Izuku one of the magazines, and he took a moment to just look through it. It was small, and poorly formatted, as though it had just been thrown together on a laptop. A half dozen articles, each made by a different person. It…

It looked so small.

So useless.

Closing the magazine, Izuku looked up to see Futsuko forcing a weak smile. He cleared his throat, and put the magazine in his bag for later.

Izuku felt his heart tighten a bit. "... Do you really think it helps?"

" I hope so! There isn't much else I can do, so I try my best with this!" Futsuko shrugged, as though she didn't even want to answer it herself. "Say, do you like writing?"

"Huh?" The sudden change of direction surprised Izuku. Did he like writing? That really depended, what sort of writing? And why was she even asking? "Well, uh, sorta. I enjoy reading, at least."

"Well, that's an important part." She laughed, plucking up and extra flyer to hand him. "The party's magazine, _The Black Flag_, is hosting a youth writing competition for middle and high schoolers, the article is due in a few months. There are a few loose guidelines, but really, you can write almost anything. If you do well enough, they might even make you a regular like me!"

"Huh…" It wasn't what Izuku was expecting, that was for sure. But, looking over the flyer, he couldn't say he minded. He had never written anything before, but a few spare ideas did bubble to the surface. If nothing else, it didn't hurt to look into. Folding up the flyer, he slipped it into his pants pocket, before smiling at Futsuko. "Thank you."

"Hey, no problem!" Taking a step back, she gives Izuku a final thumb's up. "And good luck on that entrance exam! We quirkless could use our first hero. See you, you two!"

And with that, she left the two, going to talk with more mall goers.

It felt weird.

Meeting another quirkless was a rare experience. Other than Futsuko, the only other one's he had met were extremely old. So, to meet on his own age, that was actually out trying to make the world better…

Izuku smiled to himself, a warm feeling in his sore chest.

Finally, he turned to Himiko, snaking his hand into hers. "So, what do you want to do?"

"Hm…" A grin spread on the blonde's face as she thought, her hand happily intertwining with his. "Wanna look around for a bit?"

"Sure!"

But one thought still lingered.

What did he want his hero name to be? What did he want to be seen as?

Heroes needed to change. And he needed to become the catalyst.

**A/N: 'I should be back to a regular update schedule soon.'**

***laughs in liar***

**I'm really sorry about the wait, everyone. Schoolwork hit me like a train, and CATLT sadly had to take a back seat for a bit. I promise though, this story ain't gonna be abandoned, so don't worry about that.**

**If nothing else, there's at least that this is the longest chapter yet! Coming in at 11,688, I eventually had to cut this off because it was getting too long. Hopefully, the next chapter will come out a **_**lot**_** sooner!**

**Also, the CATLT Discord is doing quite well! With about thirty members, it's a pretty active little server, with us hosting our first anime night tonight at 9 PM EST! If you want to join our chill little community, feel free to DM me, and I'll send ya the discord code!**

**With only the worst of intentions,**

**Imp the Nefarious**


	20. Chapter 20

A blade sliced through the air, not a sound beyond the thin whisper of air splitting. A glint of dark steel in the garage's low light and the thick, choking smell of oil. The blade strikes metal, and the near silence is cracked open by the sound of wood tearing.

Another few knives follow in close succession, a pack of angry bats spilling blood at their master's beck and call. They slice cleanly into the target, mercilessly lacerating the human-shaped wood with deadly injuries.

He paused, approaching the target with a cold and analytical gaze. A click of his tongue, and he began roughly pulling out the knives.

Disappointed, that's how he felt. Izuku had one more day, no, only a few hours until the test at UA. He had lost a month of prep time, and had a week to pull himself together. Many of his gains, gone. Many of his honed skills, gone. His endurace, gone. He had an even worse chance to get in than he did even two months earlier.

What would happen if he was rejected? He had spent the past year training and preparing to be a hero, and so what was he supposed to do if it all went to waste? Mom wanted to send him to a special needs school, as if that would "save" him from his quirklessness. Izuku grit his teeth, and threw another knife with all the strength he could muster, burying it in the wooden target.

She couldn't save him from his quirklessness. He didn't even _need _to be saved. Running from it, hiding from it, being ashamed of it, that was how to let it control his life. He wanted - no, _needed_ \- to live in spite of his weaknesses, not in the shadow of them. That's why he couldn't afford to think about failure. Every thought he dedicated to his doubt was a thought not going into planning, strategizing, and eventually, succeeding. But what if that didn't help? What if he still failed?

Gritting his teeth and furrowing his eyebrows, he launched another volley of knives into the target. Four hit vital areas, and one hit just below the arm. He totaled 103 hits to 21 misses.

Consciously, he knew that was decent , maybe even good. After all, knives do well in the hit-and-run style HImiko helped him hone, and not many of his opponents would know how to defend against them in the first place. But…

He was still a Deku. A Deku fighting tooth and nail to justify his existence in the most elite of hero schools and, eventually, the highest ranking of heroes. He couldn't just "not fail." He had to win. He had to-

"I'm sure you'll do great!"

Izuku screamed, a hair's width away from throwing his knife at Himiko. He spun on his heel, his eyes wide. "H-Himiko, when did you get there?!"

"About five minutes ago." She beamed, her sharp white teeth displayed in pure amusement as she sat in the garage's single black bean bag, her legs folded up criss-cross-apple-sauce. A giggle escaped her lips, but Izuku didn't think she was trying to contain it in the first place. "You just seemed so focused, I didn't want to interrupt!"

"I nearly threw a knife at you!"

Himiko cast a coy glance towards the target, with two knives sticking out of it, and then back towards Izuku, a mix of smugness and a challenge in her sunflower eyes. "Are ya in the mood for a fight?"

Izuku just let out a defeated sigh. "I know, my knife throwing could still improve a lot... But I thought it might be useful…"

"... It will be. You don't need to be so worried, though." Himiko's smile fell a bit, becoming softer and more careful, before it's teasing edge returned. "You've been fighting me all year, after all, and I'm a lot more dangerous than anything they'll throw at you!"

He weakly chuckled, more at her unflinching optimism than from any restored confidence. Still, he joined her on the bean bag, his muscles limp and sore.

Himiko giggled, snuggling into his neck and ruffling his damp hair. Honestly, Izuku would never understand why she liked cuddling with him after he practiced. But he most certainly wouldn't complain.

Himiko hummed, and then looked up at him from his chest. "You'll succeed tomorrow. I just know it."

"Why? H-how?" The fire that had filled his eyes the entire day had slipped, his eyes just becoming heavy and nervous.

She smiled, as though it was the most simple on Earth. "Because you only lose when you give up. And I know you won't."

"... I hope so..."

A few minutes passed before they spoke again, the two simply enjoying each other's presence. But Izuku noticed how Himiko looked at him when she thought he wasn't looking. She looked… nervous. Afraid. And more anything, sad.

Her look, it dug into his soul. Leaning back, he finally closed his worried eyes.

"Ya know what we should do?" Izuku's eyes flickered open at the sound of her voice, and he was greeted by Himiko's wide smile.

"Uh…" He grasped for any answer that made sense. Of course, as he was dealing with Himiko, that strategy was bound to failure. "... head home?"

"Nah, it's only seven!" She laughed, shaking her head. "You need a good luck charm!"

)ooOoo(

The bus rumbled down one nighttime street after another, but the only sign that it was past sunset were the stars directly up. The sidewalks and people were well lit by neon signs and street lamps, as filled by people at night as at day. Izuku relaxed in his seat, lazily watching open-air ramen bars and antique shops pass..

Musutafu wasn't a big city; certainly not compared to nearby cities like Shizuoka or Nagoya. But it was still large enough to have different areas, like the East Strip and the West Gate. But the one right outside the bus window, the one Izuku liked the most, was Steel Town.

It was usually a quiet area of town, its last old steel mill long since gone silent for the last time. Instead, it's goliath steel and brick factories have grown new life, filled with old-style cafes and tea shops, hundreds of little start-up stores tucked within the district's brick-laid labyrinth. To the south was the packed steel towers of downtown, and to the north stretched a seemingly endless forest of suburbia.

But that wasn't why he liked being here. No, that reason was the heroes.

Steel Town was where Warp and Dragonbreath were typically stationed, two local heroes that were the stars of north Musutafu. Dragonbreath was an older man, a last-generation hero, in the same vein as All Might and Endeavor. He used his fiery abilities in an older, power-based style, his heavy samurai armour holding back his speed, but his raw strength more than making up for it. Warp was newer, though; She graduated from a local hero school two years ago, making a name for herself with her ability to seemingly be able to out-maneuver and out-pace any opponent with, as it appears to Izuku, the ability to teleport for short distances. Her strong kicks and space-themed uniform set her apart from any other hero in the area, only overshadowed by the downtown heroes like Mt. Lady.

Izuku sighed, looking from the bus window to the blonde snuggled up against his arm. A slight smile slipped past his exhausted sigh. He knew she was awake, but she looked like she was asleep, making it impossible for him not to watch her with bittersweet eyes.

When she slept at his side, she looked at peace, as though she had solved everything that bothered her. But in reality, when she was awake, it was apparent that she was constantly trying to solve something unbearingly terrible, even behind her happy smile and warm eyes. There was something wrong, something that had been haunting her for weeks.

Izuku just wished he knew what it was.

"This is our stop!"

"Huh?"

He snapped out of his trance, realizing that Himiko was dragging him out of his seat and toward the bus door.

"Oh, uh, sorr-!"

Himiko just laughed. "Just come on!"

The bus driver simply rolled his eyes.

And like that, the two teens stood on the sidewalk, and the bus squeakily closed its doors, giving a tut-tut as it pulled back into traffic.

Izuku turned around, seeing the FamilyMart behind them, and raised an eyebrow. "... A good luck charm from here..?"

"Nope! Though a snack might be nice after!" She snickered at the thought. But before he could say something, she grabbed his hand, guiding him into a nearby backalley, and then another, and another. It took several minutes of walking to be out of the bright neon lights that defined the area, instead replaced by the pitch black alleyways that seemed abandoned by society.

Finally, after enough walking to make his legs become sore again, they reached what seemed to be a dead end, with only a single, blood red neon sign.

_GATEWAY_

Izuku froze, but Himiko skipped forward, an excited grin on her face as she knocked in rapid succession on a steel door. Izuku didn't know how, but he knew that this wasn't a place where people were supposed to be. It was a gut instinct, he should grab Himiko and just retrace their steps back to the bus stop, as fast as he possibly could. But he just stood there, a mix of fear and grotesque interest folding his feet to the ground.

There was some shuffling behind the door, before a viewport slid open, revealing a set of tired, scarred eyes. "Who is it?"

"It's meee!" Himiko waved, as if greeting a friend.

The man groaned, followed by a variety of curses, before responding. "You better have money this time, girl."

"Yep, we do!" She nodded, gesturing to a still motionless Izuku.

The pair of eyes watched Izuku, a shark smelling fresh meat in the water, but simply groaned once again and closed the viewport with a loud scrape. The door opened, a scream in the quiet alley, and the men waved the two in before closing and locking the door behind them.

Izuku wasn't sure what he was expecting; something grimy, something sinister? Darker, maybe even bloodstained.

Whatever it was, it wasn't this.

A few tables, three short shelves neatly lined up in rows. A cash register and a stack of paper bags. A well swept tile floor, and some recycling bins.

And rows upon rows of guns, knives, incendiary bombs, brass knuckles, and seemingly every illegal weapon Izuku could imagine.

His stomach dropped like a lead ball in the ocean.

"H-H-Himiko, is this a black market? Izuku, whipped around, speaking in a whispered panic. "We shouldn't be here!"

"Don't worry." Himiko twirled around a nonchalant smile on her face, as if they were brave little children exploring a cave near their house. "I've been here plenty of times, and nothing has ever happened. I just thought you'd like something!"

Izuku glanced around, the cold, dull reflections of pistols and rifles attracting his eyes. Want something? What was she expecting him to want?! And she had been here before? How often? Why?!

His internal panic was broken by the shopkeeper's gruff voice.

"All American imports. All of them guaranteed to get the job done well." He glanced over at Himiko, tired irritation in his eyes. "You's better buy somethin' before you leave, though, and don't touch anythin' unless ya intend to buy it. You hear that, girl?"

Himiko gave a big, innocent smile, a child in a candy shop.

For a moment, there was a bit of silence. Himiko crouched, looking at a cluster of small revolvers, like toys through the window. The man leaned back in his chair, lighting a cheap cigarette, but his eyes never left the two kids. Izuku licked his lips, still shaking, but beginning to calm down.

None of these were loaded. The shop owner wouldn't shoot them either. Hopefully. Looking at the man from the corner of his eye, He didn't look like a thug. He was skinny, really, but a big gash-like scar did cross over his left eye, and his hair was pulled back in a ponytail. No tattoos, no big muscles, he even seemed to have a gentle face if you looked past the scar and ragged mustache. But the "nice old man" idea fell flat with any closer examination. His steel-toed boots and concrete gray camo brought an air of casual confidence and casual violence to him, only emphasized by the pistol at his hip. It didn't look like the type just designed to disable. The cute puppy dog callender beside his cash register was mirrored by a box of makeshift bomb parts on the other side, and a flag hung on the back wall, a black star on a white strip, flanked by crimson red stripes. Izuku frowned, facing the man directly and placing his hands politely by his sides.

"... Sir, why do you do this?"

"'Sir?'" The man paused, surprised, but then let out a hearty laugh, rocking back in his seat. He roughly combed his long coal hair back with his gloved fingers, and smiled with a set of leathery lips. "Damn, son, you're makin' me feel ol'. Just call me Shiro. I wanna help my people, and there ain't a better way than this."

Izuku cocked his head, genuine confusion in his green eyes. "What do you mean… 'your people?'"

Shiro grunted and rolled his eyes. "All ya damn quirkies, wandering it my shop, without the slightest clue why I'm here. Didn't ya tell him, girl?"

Himiko popped her head up from behind a row, holding back a giggle. "I must've forgotten!"

"Ya damned liar." Shiro clicked his tongue, then turned back to Izuku. "Do ya know a single thing about bein' quirkless?"

"... Huh?"

"Yeah, yeah, the two of you are a sweet little pair of quirky kids. Ain't never had to deal with the big bad world." He leaned forward, setting a pair of heavy arms on the counter as a dark scowl crossed his face. He suddenly seemed so much larger, so much… angrier.

Izuku flinched.

"I-" Fear tried to freeze his limbs, but he forced the words out, chewing on his lips and glancing between Shiro and the floor. "I'm quirkless too."

Shiro paused, surprise in his eyes. "Well damn. Youngest I've seen had to of been double your age." he leaned back in his seat, puffing his cigar and nodding slowly. Finally, He took out the cigarette, snuffing it out on a well-scorched piece of the glass counter.

He looked Izuku up and down. A glint of interest in his chocolate eyes. Then, he started speaking, slowly and heavily. "Son, you are one of my people. I sell this to defend people. This world is a damn dangerous place for people like us."

He tapped right under his scarred eye, drawing Izuku's eyes to it.

"W-what happened..?" Izuku stared at him.

"Fighting for my people." Shiro's dark smile simply widened, in the sardonic, crude way of someone showing off battle scars. "A group down in Kitakyushu. Some nationals got into our group. Came for our guns and bombs while we packed meals for some locals. Fuckin' blew through the window, guns a-blazing. I was honestly a lucky kid, only got this scar. A lot of the others lost their lives, and the unlucky ones lost their freedom."

Izuku's eyes went wide, watching the man. It was only then he saw the details, tiny scars all over Shiro's body. The flag suddenly clicked. He knew who this man was. He was part of the Vanguard.

This man was a terrorist.

He gulped, his whole body shaking.

Shiro continued, seemingly entertaining himself by watching Izuku's reactions. "We're still out there. Some of em are planning to do it again, but," He rolled his eyes. " I ain't that idealistic."

Izuku quickly nodded, his mouth refusing to speak. Not that he had anything to say. He just wanted to get out, to disappear and pretend he had never seen this place.

"Nah, those new kids are idiots." Shiro continued, Sucking on his cigarette. He waved his hand at his merchandise. "I sell this to locals, the people that need 'em. You call 119, there are three options: the police show up, who ain't got the money or organization to do shit, a hero shows up, who puts on a show and break every damn thing to look better, or three, no one shows up in time, meaning you're fucked."

He tapped on the glass counter, looking at his pistols. "This option, number four, is the best, 'specially for us quirkless. They might have fancy moves, some magic powers, but I have yet to see one that can out-do a bullet." Another set of his bombastic laughter filled the room.

"T-thank…" Izuku bit his lip, then bowed. "Thank you Shiro, for, uh… the new perspective."

"'Course, kid. Hell, since you're such a youngin', I'll give ya half off your purchase!" He smiled like the fun uncle everyone seemed to have. "Now then, what're ya interested in?"

Huh?

No.

Nononono.

He was _not_ buying something from here.

Even if the man said he had to.

He couldn't.

But all his traitorous mouth could stutter was "I, uh… I don't know…"

Shiro laughed. "No need to be so nervous, kid. I won't bite ya!"

Somehow, Izuku didn't quite trust that.

"How about this," The man stretched and stood up from his chair, revealing his tall, barrel-like body. "I'll take a look at ya, and ask a few questions. Then I'll find ya somethin' good."

Izuku meekly nodded, casting a nervous look at Himiko. She simply squatted, her chin in her palms as she watched with glee.

Shiro walked around the counter, grabbing Izuku's wrist and pulling up his sleeve. Izuku shuttered as the man ran his fingers down his arm, earning a chuckle from Shiro. And as fast as he looked at Izuku's arms, he slid the sleeves back down.

"Well now, those are some well developed bi- and triceps." He stole a quick glance at his legs. "And from what I can see, your calves and thighs are well built too, givin' you're a teen. Ya ever boxed?"

"N-no, sir"

"I said call me Shiro."

"Sorry."

"Well, ya should try it. You got the body type for it." Shiro stood back up, scratching his stubbled chin as he looked over the boy. "Ya have any skills? It's obvious you've worked out plenty."

"Well, uh…" Izuku watched the ground with nervous intensity. "... Not really… I can throw knives, I guess..?"

Shiro whistled. "That's a new one. Not many people use it. Why'd ya choose it? Or was it just to be cool? Not a good idea to do that.'"

"Of course not." Izuku snapped up, almost offended. "I worked it into a wider strategy!"

Shiro quirked an eyebrow, and Izuku shrunk back, realizing he shouted.

"Well then," He leaned back, balancing on the counter. "Let's hear it."

Himiko's smile widened, a proud glint in her eyes.

"Looking at my abilities,I know I'm at a natural disadvantage in straight up fights, and most other fights, really," Izuku sighed, knowing he would have to explain it in detail, or this military man would dissect him with questions. "So that means I have to control the environment and situation of the fight more than anything. Strike where they're weak."

"Basically the underlying tactic of the Vanguard, yes." Shiro nodded, as if in approval. Izuku shook, the similarities drawn were less than comforting. The man gestured to continue.

"So, uh…" The smell of gunpowder and steel suddenly seemed far more present than before. "Because of that, I rely on stealth and lure tactics, and try to only attack from mid to long range, in order to limit the attacks of opponents."

The man smiled, brushing dust off his camouflage pants as he stood up. "So, stealth and mobility, huh?"

Izuku paused, but nodded. "I, uh, I guess."

"I can work with that." He turned and began marching down the aisle, waving for Izuku to follow.

The shop was deceptively small, actually significantly larger once the two turned a corner and entered through a steel door. The somewhat pleasant shelves and soft white light of the front room was replaced with what appeared to be a repurposed parking lot. Dull, flickering lights hung from the concrete ceiling, bathing the chilly room in unreliable, cold light. At the end of the room an exit had been boarded and taped over, labelled "CONDEMNED", but the whole thing rested on hinges, as if nothing more than a decorative door. The soft hum of electricity filled the room, along with the stench of oil and metal. In the room sat rows upon rows of weapons, an even wider and deadlier variety than those in the front room. Izuku's eyes flicked back and forth, unable to comprehend that weapons like this existed in his hometown, while Shiro merely scanned the shelves, searching for something.

The two didn't speak. Izuku was dead silent. Shiro muttered to himself. But finally, the man broke the silence.

"Not everything in here is American imports." He paused, looking down an aisle, and Izuku joined him. "Take a look at the selection."

And there sat dozens of old, unmarked hero gear.

"W-What!?" Izuku rushed in, grabbing pieces he recognized. They… they were almost identical to the actual ones! Some minor color differences, but… these weren't costumes or replicas. Looking back towards Shiro, Izuku gave him an uncertain look.

Shiro chuckled, putting another smoke in between his lips and lighting it. "They ain't originals, if that's what you're askin'. But if ya got connections, you can get damn near anything." He took a long drag from his cigarette, closing his eyes briefly, before returning to the present. Finally, he gestured behind Izuku. "Far back, bottom left. Those ones might help ya. They don't rely on quirks."

Izuku turned to see, but held himself back. This wasn't right. It's all illegal, that was obvious. Not only that, this was hero-level gear. The sort of stuff that could kill people. But…

He had never been this close. Not to a hero, not to their equipment, not since his encounter with All Might. If nothing else, he could try to see what he could, and write down notes as soon as he got home. That… That was okay, right? That wasn't nearly as illegal.

Creeping towards the equipment, slow and steady as an adventurer discovering an ancient temple, Izuku began to sift through the shelf. Flamethrowers, dart guns, enhancers and lock-breakers. They all felt smooth and fresh, unused and ready to go.

But one in particular caught his attention. A mask.

On the surface, it seemed perfectly normal. Something dramatic teenagers would buy, maybe. Smooth black leather coated the surface, glistening in the garage's low light, decorated with long, golden fangs. Picking it up, he ran his fingers up on of the wolfish fangs-

"Ouch!" Izuku pulled his hand back, seeing blood bubble out of his finger.

"Careful, it's sharp." Izuku's head snapped up, catching sight of Shiro joining him in the aisle.

Kissing the blood off his finger, Izuku stared at the mask. "... What is it?"

"Dangerous, that's for sure. The hero that used it had their license suspended for fatally injuring too many villains, which says somethin', considering how loosely those laws are enforced." Shiro laughed like a hyena. Ruffling Izuku's hair, Shiro dragged him to his feet. "That thing's a messy little bastard, but not a doubt in my mind it'd serve ya well."

The blood drained from Izuku's face. "What does it do?"

"It's not what _it _does," Turning around, Shiro began to head back to the front room, leaving Izuku to scurry to catch up. "... It's what _you _do."

Opening the door, Shiro shouted. "So, what the hell did ya do this time, Girl!?"

Izuku entered just in time to see her recognizable 'far too innocent' smile. "Nothing at all, sir!"

The man groaned, but dropped down into the torn up office chair behind the counter. "Come here, kid.

Timidly, but with more ease than Izuku had felt since he entered the store, Izuku joined the man at the counter, and Himiko joined them.

With well-practiced speed, Shiro rang everything up, including the half-off discount, as promised. Money exchanged hands, but no receipt was given. Finally, he leaned forward, scooting Izuku a single card, white with a black star pressed into it. "Quirkies are a pain in the ass. I may have only a little hope in my generation, but maybe yours will be better." His smile seemed strange, as if endowing Izuku with the mission he failed at. "Call if ya ever need me."

)ooOoo(

The walk through the alleyway was quiet. Himiko was circling him, abuzz with energy, but Izuku… he felt sick. Like seasickness and a rollercoaster all tied up in one, with an extra pinch of insanity. He just bought a who-knows-what from a black market terrorist. A black market terrorist that _Himiko had met_. And that same terrorist offered "help," whatever that meant.

Oh god. Ooooh god.

Izuku tried to stop his head from spinning, but it was a slow march. Looking at the card, it was simple. A black star on one side, a phone number on the other. Neatly folding it, he tucked it away in his pocket. He should've thrown it away, he knew that. But, he just… didn't. It felt wrong.

"Put on the mask!"Himiko interrupted his thoughts, a wide, catlike smile on her face. She was… casually excited. As if this was a birthday party. As if this was… normal.

"Uh… not yet. Please."

"Aww…" she pouted, but soon returned to her normal, giggling self.

Izuku watched her happy twirls with fear.

When she smiled at him, he noticed her fangs again. He noticed her thin, feline eyes and their toxic yellow irises. He stumbled alongside her, unable to ignore the bloody references she made, of the knives she always carried with her.

He had almost forgotten.

This was the girl that wanted to see him jump from a building.

His easing stomach tied itself back into knots, memories of every off putting thing she'd said in their year returning with a vengeance.

After several minutes of walking, Himiko stopped in front of him, and Izuku noticed the concern in her expression. It didn't seem to fit with her normal face, like a rainstorm in the desert.

"Izu-kun, what's wrong?" She slipped between his arms, giving him a deep hug and nuzzling into his chest.

But it didn't feel good.

Not… not in the same way as before.

It felt wrong. Twisted.

But he couldn't say no to her.

He couldn't resist as she bit his neck, ruffled his hair, and quietly led him forward. But just before they left the alley, she stopped him.

"Do you.. Want to try it on?"

He looked down, his eyes tracing over the mask. Black leather, well shined, and two rows of golden wolf fangs. They were sharp as razors, and ice cold to the touch, even compared to the chilly evening.

Himiko's raw excitement seemed to warm around her, and looking at that smile, Izuku still couldn't resist.

He slipped the mask on, hoping to whoever ruled from above that it wasn't a weapon. He couldn't afford to hurt anyone, not here, not now, not with people passing as they spoke. The material touched his skin, and-

Nothing happened.

The mask just rested on his face, a decorative little thing. As thankful as he had been,he was also disappointed. It had cost 8 000 yen, after all.

But Himiko looked happy, her smile returning.

Izuku didn't know how to feel about that.

"It looks good on you!"

"Yeah... thanks"

Even with the noise on the street, it felt eerily quiet to Izuku. Unnaturally so.

Finally, the two left the alley, standing beside the bus stop, neither knowing how to break the silence. He scratched at the mask. It was comfortable, even a bit warm, but he had never really worn masks. Izuku shivered. The night was cold. The road was loud. The city was still alive. But Izuku was drowning it all out with his internal murmuring.

He was still reeling, and he eyed the girl beside him. He could see in her eyes that she knew she'd messed up. But in what way, Izuku didn't know what she was thinking. Things were starting to add up in a way Izuku wished they wouldn't. An orphan that had lived homeless for months, showing up to watch his suicide, who taught him how to fight in what could only be called a deadly style, taking him to a black mark-

Stop. Would his brain please stop! He didn't want to think about it! He didn't want to-

… He didn't want to know he loved a villain.

He looked around, watching the many nameless people of the city pass and trying desperately to ignore the puzzle that was falling into place in his head.

Musutafu may not be the biggest city, but it was still too large for him to grasp. So to imagine Tokyo, or the whole Kanto region, or Japan as a whole…

Izuku was a kid. A single, lonely, weak kid. He had trained, he had pushed himself to his limits over and over again, but it was still true. Even as a hero, that would probably be true. So how on earth was he supposed to change anything, let alone every hero in the nation?

His dull eyes stared across the street, watching a small store. An old man sat behind the counter, and a large, mammoth, grey-skinned man stood opposite to him, twice the old man's height and with a set of massive tusks protruding from his mouth. It wasn't interesting. It was mundane. And mundanity was something Izuku much preferred to his current thoughts.

But it wasn't as mundane as Izuku expected. The elephantine man bowed deeply, like a samurai asking his daimyo for good graces. The old man scowled, shaking his head. Showing the contents of his brown paper bags, the elephantine seemed to beg, his dark eyes full of fear. But the other still refused, picking up the phone and pointing at it. The large, grey skin man seemed to panic, shouting loud enough that Izuku could hear the gruff, angry screams, even with the dozen-meter distance between them. The old man continued to dial the phone, before speaking into it.

Izuku looked on, confused. A thief? Maybe a burglar, bluffing a threat? Either way, this man was doing something the store clerk didn't want. Feeling the cold steel of his throwing knive's handles, he slowly began to cross the street, determination in his eyes.

"Izu-kun?" Himiko followed close behind him. "Where are we going?"

"You see that store?" His voice was low.

Glancing in the same direction as him, it clicked, and she gave a predatory smile. "I hope we have some fun!"

Izuku couldn't do much. He knew that. But he could at least try.

Looking between the bags and the old man, the large man grit his teeth and snatched up the goods and ran.

He bursts through the doors, eyes darting back and forth in pure panic. "Shitshitshitshit!"

A villain! Izuku knew it! He clenched his jaw, reaching for his knives. He would probably be able to greatly slow him down with strikes to the calves and-

Before Izuku could even grab a knife, the man ran.

His legs moved before his mind did.

Pumping his legs like pistons, Izuku's eyes locked on the man.

Gray hoodie.

Shaved head.

Seemingly unarmed, but definitely dangerous.

Goal: Intercept and arrest.

Pushing people out of his way, he weaved through Steel Town's crowded sidewalks, his eyes never leaving the villain. He needed to catch up! This area was far too dense to risk a fight with a villain of his size!

A back alley? It would be better; less people, and would strange his maneuverability. How? Push harder! The villain slipped out of sight, but Izuku's legs were already screaming at him, demanding he let them rest after the runs he already did today.

No! He wouldn't stop!

Skidding to a stop, Izuku made a hard turn into the back alley, weaving in and out as fast as he could.

Right!

Right!

Left!

Jump!

Kicking off from against the wall, Izuku leapt a gate blocking the alleyway from the main street, before catching the top of it and landing on his feet only strides behind the running villain.

Continuing the chase, a hungry smile spread on Izuku's face. The villain was slowing down, and panting hard as he shoved people out of the way. He was so close! Just a moment more and he could-

"Stop where you are, villain!" A young woman seemingly appeared from thin air, dropping in front of the villain like a paratrooper and making him freeze in place. Her voice was as bold as her smile, and her very presence exuded a sense of confident control. Slipping a baton from each thigh with a stylish twirl, she flicked them on, their bright blue electricity illuminating her like a vengeful sea siren. "Warp has arrived, ready for combat!"

Izuku skidded to a stop, awe in his eyes. It was Warp. He- He had never seen her in person before! All he had seen was blurry WeTube videos and news reports! Any sense of relief that a professional hero was on the scene was instantly overtaken by excitement at the opportunity to study a teleporter up close.

Himiko slowed to a stop behind him, panting just as much as Izuku. "Who-" she paused to catch her breath- "Who's that?"

"That's a local hero, one I've never gotten to study before!" His voice was muffled through his mask, but his weak smile shone through clearly enough. Pulling her with him and he shuffled to the front of an already-forming ring of civilians, he didn't see her sudden frown.

Why hadn't he brought his notebook? He knew heroes frequented this area! His heart still racing from the run, he wiped the sweat from his brow, attempting to focus his eyes on key details. Thick but snug astronaut boots, which seemed to contain boosters on the bottom. Were they for combat or mobility? They were larger than most mobility rockets, or at least seemed like it. Her gloves were made of a similar material, but obviously thinner and more decorative. That makes sense, considering that she supposedly used her legs and stun weapons primarily. Her jumpsuit was a fiery orange, vacuum-sealed and marked with the JAXA insignia. Did JAXA sponsor her? It would make sense, using her as a source of funding for their research. But still-

"You're muttering again." Himiko bumped shoulders with Izuku, but there was nothing lighthearted in her voice.

No, there was fire in her eyes, white hot and deadly. And every drop of it was aimed at the hero in the center of the ring.

"H-Himiko, are you okay?" Izuku frowned, worry in his voice. She rarely got angry, and even less of the time showed it.

"I'm fine." Short, simple, and even more concerning.

"Brutes like you have disturbed the peace before!" Warp shouted over the crowd, as if speaking to them instead of the villain himself. "And I've caught them every time before! You cannot escape the law!"

Izuku's eyes flashed to the villain; his reaction would be important here. Professional villains usually brushed it off and prepared their next move; amatures would panic, either attacking or running without thought.

But the villain did neither. For several seconds, the villain just stood there, terror in his eyes as he looked between the crowd and Warp. Very briefly, the villain met gazes with Izuku. He was a giant, twice Izuku's height. He had thick grey skin and lethally sharp tusks. But he looked like a scared, uncertain child.

Just like he had in the store, bowing to the clerk.

Izuku furrowed his eyebrows. Something here wasn't right.

Then the air popped, a firework exploding in air, and there was Warp, directly above the villain.

"Surrender, villain!"

There was a flash of light, the air ruptured with the sounds of electricity and filled with the sudden smell of burning flesh as Warp brought down her batons on the giant's shoulders. He let loose a loud, groaning scream, stumbling back, and the villain's fear quickly transformed into anger, a bloodcurdling roar. "You little bitc-"

There was another pop, and Warp suddenly appeared behind him, delivering harsh kicks to the backs of his knees. The villain dropped the bags he was clutching, falling to his knees with a loud thud. He was off balance, but he twisted, wildly swinging at her like an angry beast. Dodging, Warp laughed, and the crowd cheered. All except Izuku and Himiko.

Izuku was simply horrified, staring at the dropped bags.

It wasn't valuable goods.

It wasn't alcohol, or jewelry, or computer parts.

It was food.

A bag of rice, some basic fruits and vegetables. Not even any meat.

This man wasn't a villain. Izuku didn't know what to call him, but…

Not a villain. Of that he was certain.

"Ow!" Izuku looked down, slipping his hand away from Himiko. "Why'd you bite me?"

Himiko grimaced, a strange expression to see on her feline face. "I feel we're gonna need it."

The giant stumbled to his feet, scrambling to collect his ill-acquired goods, but there was yet another pop, and Warp appeared in front of him, her feet aimed for his face. The giant grabbed her by her legs, spinning and throwing her into a wall. The crowd gasped, but he simply grabbed his bags and jumped the loose ring around him, sprinting for freedom as cars around him screeched to a stop.

"Oh no you dont!" a bit battered but not injured, Warp once again popped out of existence.

The giant only made it half a block before Warp caught him, returning to her brutal subjugation. As Izuku rushed to catch up with the pair of fighters, he watched Warp land hit after hit, the crowd cheering every time. By the time he closed half the gap between them, the giant was stumbling like a broken wind up toy, covered in bruises and burns.

Why? Why on earth was Warp being this brutal!? This man was a petty thief, but she was attacking him as if he was a dangerous, deadly criminal!

'_A hero shows up, who puts on a show and breaks every damn thing to make em look better'_

Izuku heard it more clearly now. The crowd chanting Warp's name. Who knew how many were recording it on their phones, let alone how many would see it on the news and social media. The brave Warp, defeating the large and impressive elephantine villain.

Amazing battles meant more coverage.

More coverage meant more fans.

More fans meant more money and fame.

It all clicked in Izuku's head, like the final puzzle piece dropping into place.

Heroes were businessmen, and their business was violence.

In that moment, something in his heart, something very small and delicate, was crushed. Stomped under the feet of reality. Ground to dust.

And all that remained was hatred. He had been lied to, all his life. Lied, deceived, tricked, _betrayed._ His lungs began to burn, a match struck in his heart, and his muscles flared, begging to be used. The mask tightened around his mouth, hot leather smooth against his skin, and the golden teeth fastened around his jaw, protruding into large, deadly fangs.

"Surrender, and I assure you swift justic-" Warp's proclamation was cut short by a set of golden jaws tearing into her side, Izuku slamming into her with all his force. She screamed in terror and pain as she crumpled to the ground, and the wet sound leather and skin being ripped in open filled the air. Warp brought down her batons, slamming Izuku on the head over and over until he released, and kicking him away.

Some part of Izuku was terrified, both of Warp and himself.

There hadn't been a plan, nothing thought through. He could feel it in his heart, in the way his veins pulsed, the way his breathing was sharp and fast. The only thing moving his body was adrenaline.

And he had attacked a hero. A pro-hero. This wasn't a test fight with Himiko, not a brawl with Bakugo. This woman was trained, and as much as Izuku watched heroes fight, the only training he had gotten was in a back alley.

Oh no.

Warp popped, teleporting a half dozen strides away and on her feet. "You son of a bitch! What the hell do you think you're doing, huh!?" She tried to hold a defensive stance, but she was clutching at her side, and Izuku could see the blood spilling out from under her hand.

But his regret and fear would not sate his anger.

"Look at this man! Look at what you've done to him!" He screamed at her, almost snarling with rage. The giant had stumbled back, leaning against the wall with a pained expression and heavy, labored breathing. Large purple bruises spotted his skin, along with burn marks and painful swellings. Izuku's head spun, but the words kept pouring out. "Is this what heroes are supposed to do? Attack the powerless? Make a show of it?"

"Look, I don't know what the hell you're on," Warp glared at him, continuing the conversation, but Izuku could see her looking for weak points. "But you just attacked a hero of the law. You better not think you can preach as if this villain is the good guy!"

With that she popped out of existence.

And popped back in right behind him.

Izuku just barely dodged a kick to the head. She swung, twirling and spinning like a deadly dancer, and Izuku stumbled back, acting as her inexperienced dance partner. Duck, jump, spin. His boiling blood filled him with raw fury, snapping at the hero with his razor jaws and punching at her even as he dodged and tried to slip from her range. He snagged her leg, but she didn't hesitate, flipping and kicking his neck with her other boot, sending him crashing to the ground.

He hated her.

He hated, hated, _hated_ her!

Izuku would make her pay! For this man and all the others she had hurt! For everyone every hero had unjustly broken under their uncaring heels!

His jaws snapped at her, his hands itched to strangle her, his fingers cried to make her bleed!

He dodged another strike from her electric batons, his stomach flipped inside out. What on earth was he thinking!? He would, _couldn't _hurt people! It was against everything he stood for! But sweet whispers came from the back of his mind, promising power and pleasure.

Izuku threw up in his mouth.

A plan, a plan, he needed a plan! He was trying to think, but he couldn't even navigate his own mind, filled with an unpierceable red fog of fear, panic, and a disgusting level of bloodlust.

She was a close range fighter with high mobility, how could he-

Warp teleported in front of him, and Izuku tackled her, only to meet the feeling of electric batons burning his shoulder blades. Slipping a knife from his leg, he stabbed her in the shoulder, tearing through her suit before she kicked him off of her.

How was he supposed to counter that!? He coughed, the taste of iron on his lips. His or hers, he didn't know. Something had to activate her teleportation ability! She couldn't just teleport anywhere! But what was it? Sound, knowledge, sight-

She teleported again, but he rolled out of the way. Every muscle on his body screamed, the fire in his lungs spreading. But, in the corner of his mind, he noticed.

Warp wasn't getting slower. But she _seemed _slower. He could see her more clearly, the red fog clearing. He could hear sharper, every person's cheer or scream, every footstep or camera click. He could smell blood, but more than that. He could smell _different _bloods, along with oils, smokes, foods, and any number of things he couldn't recognize.

The pain, the bruises, and burns, he couldn't feel them at all.

But the red fog remained.

Izuku spun, kicking Warp's legs out from under her, but she didn't even look at him, popping away. Izuku glaved to where she had been looking, just to see her appear there, landing on her feet.

Despite himself, he smiled. She had one trick, but Izuku had figured it out. Maybe by luck, maybe by study. He didn't have time to contemplate. Before she popped again, he threw one of his knives, hoping the practice had been worth it. It cut through the air, faster than either of them could react, and-

Bullseye.

Warp screamed, wailing incomprehensible words as she staggered back. "My eyes! Fuck, my eyes!"

Her one good eye looked down towards a small watch-like device on her wrist. "Dragonbreath, I need backu-" A second Izuku slammed into her, driving knives into her uninjured side and tearing the device off. He threw it to the ground, smashing it under his heel.

Himiko.

Looking up, the second Izuku shouted. "We need to get out of here!"

Izuku's eyes went wide, but he nodded, grabbing the giant by his hand and half-dragging him into the nearest alley. "Sir, Follow me!" The man stumbled behind Izuku, confused, half unconscious, but not resisting. Himiko followed them in after, her disguise melting into gray goo the moment she entered the alley.

Izuku ran as fast as he could, trying as hard as he could to ignore the blood on his hands.

)ooOoo(

It was late.

Really late. Maybe even early. Izuku didn't dare check.

In the narrow back alleys of Steel Town, it was impossible to tell where you are, let alone where someone went. It had been hours, and no one had come.

No police.

No investigators.

No heroes.

Izuku sighed, his heart flooded with a mix of relief and regret.

Himiko snuggled up to him, half asleep on his arm. After they'd stopped running, the giant had collapsed against a wall, passing out. From pain or exhaustion, they weren't sure. But Himiko had some bottles of ibuprofen and neosporin, so they did what they could. It wasn't nearly enough, not even to cover all of his burns, but it was better than nothing. Probably.

Leaning his head back, Izuku watched the stars. Little pinpricks, he always called them. White pinpricks in a velvet black sky. They looked the same, tonight. It was a comfort, in some way.

He hissed, his sore shoulders acting up. In the past few hours, he had yet to find part of him that wasn't injured. A sick chuckle escaped his lips. Every time he fought, he seemed to put himself out of commision. He knew the entrance exam was tomorrow, but for some reason, he couldn't muster up the ability to panic about it.

No, the thing he was worried about was in his lap.

A little, black leather mask. The material had loosened, the teeth had retracted, but this was the same mask he had worn earlier, the teeth were still stained with Warp's blood. He lifted the mask to his nose, and took a sniff. It smelled like blood.

But it didn't smell like _her_ blood, like it had earlier. He frowned.

This mask had done something to him. He knew that. But he didn't know how much. It had enhanced his senses, that was for sure. But how much? And which ones, and why? How? Too many questions to answer in one night. But one was too large to leave unanswered: had it impacted his emotions?

He had felt it. A hatred. A fury. A desire to kill, to hurt others, to make them bleed for the sake of it. It was… alien to him. Unacceptable.

But it had been there. And now Izuku had to piece together what was him, and what was the mask.

A sound broke the silence, and Izuku's head jerked towards it. The giant was moving, stretching his shoulders and attempting to stand.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" Izuku tried to stand up, gently laying Himiko down and ignoring his complaining leg muscles as he rushed to help the giant back down.

The man groaned. "... Where am I..?" His voice was deep and smooth, but uncertain.

Izuku looked around for a moment, as if he'd suddenly know, but came up empty. "... Safe, I can say that much. How're you feeling?"

He coughed. "Like I've been hit by a truck." His large eyes flickered open, large and dark in the nighttime shadows. "Who are you?"

Izuku hesitated. He shouldn't say his name, but to say nothing at all, or worse… he couldn't. Swallowing, he just said the first thing to come to mind. "I'm… a victim. Just like you."

The giant snorted, rolling his eyes. "You don't know half the stuff I've had to deal with, let alone understand it. Call me Zou." Then he stiffened, "Wait, what time is it?"

"Uh… Really late. Maybe even early morning."

"Shit!" Zou attempted to stand, but his leg gave out under him, forcing Izuku to catch him. "I need to get home! I promised them I'd be home soon! They have to be worried sick!"

"Hey, hey, it's okay." Izuku lowered him to the pavement, unsure what to do. "Who're 'they?'"

Zou looked like he was about to yell, but the sound died in his throat, replaced by a choked, fearful thing. "I-, Well-, My family. My wife and kids. They, I, I promised I'd come home with groceries for dinner. Behind his razor tusks and needle teeth, Zou seemed doeish, skittish and afraid.

Izuku grunted as he sat down beside the giant. "Was that why…?"

"Why I tried to steal from Old Man Jonzu?" Zou sighed, shaking his head. "I promised to pay him as soon as I could. 'Course, that didn't mean shit to Jonzu. He knew I'd lost my job."

"... I'm sorry." There was nothing else Izuku knew to say. The two sat, both looking at the dark pavement ground.

"It was a shit job anyways." Zou huffed, shaking his head. "I just wanna apologize to Jonzu. I… He didn't deserve to be stolen from. But my fuckup ass panicked. But… I just didn't want to tell them. I didn't want my kids to know their father was a broke failure."

"Did you check the food bank?"

"They only have so much, and when they see an elephant walk in…" Zou laughed, but in the way a dead man does before his hanging. "Well, their available food suddenly shrinks a lot."

They fell back into silence, each trapped in their own messed up minds. But, slowly, quietly, Zou began to sob.

"Zou, are you oka-?"

"I was raised on the streets, ya know that?" He spoke through choked gasps. "My old man was a fast food worker his whole life. And he always said-" he struggled to hold himself together. "- He said, I was the hope of his. I was the smart one. He told me to work hard, work my way up, and make sure my kids could have what I didn't. Good food. A good education. A place where the gangs didn't roam and where it was safe to walk the street at night."

Izuku patted Zou's arm, watching a deep concern in his eyes.

"And ya know what? I did. I worked damn hard. I got top of my class, went to college on a full ride, because lord knows my family could barely afford the roof over their heads, let alone that. And I did it. I graduated with honors. But that doesn't matter." He slammed his fist against his leg. "It doesn't fucking matter! Who the fuck pays attention to that when someone that looks like a fucking demon shows up and offers to teach your eight-year-olds! No one! That's who!"

A sort of horror was sinking in for Izuku, but not horror at the new or strange. Horror of the familiar. Horror that stemmed from understanding.

Zou sighed, wiping snot from his nose. "For the past decade, I've worked in construction, along with all the other mutant guys. Some of 'em, I'd known since elementary school. A few did drugs. None had degrees. It wasn't their thing, they'd say. As if they ever had a shot. We'd been fucked long before college." Zou turned, teary eyes watching Izuku. "And a few weeks back, they said they didn't need me anymore. I've been looking and looking, but no one wants someone like me in their workplace. My family still has bills. Car insurance, rent, water, electricity, food. Something had to give."

He looked down, regret in his eyes. "What would you do?"

… Izuku wasn't sure. His family had always been secure. Never rich, but secure. Mom worked hard, and dad sent paychecks. And so, to imagine…

"I wish I could help you."

"Unless you have a job to give me, you can't"

Zou groaned, his limbs twisting as he stood up and leaned against the wall. "Thank you, though. I'm sorry for any trouble I caused you." Pushing forward, he limbed his way down.

"Wait!" Just before Zou turned the corner, Izuku called out to him, and the man paused. "Can… Can I at least get you something?

Zou gave a humourless laugh. "Kid, How old are you? Sixteen? Maybe seventeen if I squint enough? I ain't gonna take your money. You've done enough tonight. Stay safe." Zou gave a nod, and left, the shadows engulfing him.

Izuku sighed, and leaned back against the wall.

"Now, how are _you_ feeling?" Himiko spoke up, herself sitting against the wall.

"... I don't really know." His mouth was dry.

She smiled softly. "You were amazing today."

"I don't feel like I was."

"You defended someone." Himiko scooted closer, nuzzling into him. "Just like you had always wanted to.

That seemed twisted. A distortion of his dream. That dream he had as a kid, people cheering as he saved people, a smile on his face. But…

That dream, it was twisted too. Those heroes, those pure good individuals, they were fake. Actors putting on a show when people's lives were on the line. Izuku would never want to be that, not anymore.

He scowled.

"Himiko, I know who I am."

"Hm?" she perked up, curious.

"I"m not a hero. I won't ever be a hero. I don't have a quirk, I don't have any sense of flare, I don't want to deal with money or fame. All I've ever wanted was to help people." There was determination in his eyes. A mature fire, embers fed fresh wood to burn. "No, my whole life I've been the victim. The weakling, the joke of the class. And the more I see, the more I realize it's not just us two. There are others, so many others. The abused, the abandoned, the oppressed. And those are the people heroes don't save. The ones heroes take advantage of."

"We've had enough heroes." Sitting up, he looked Himiko in the eye. "I am the Victim. And I'm going to tear down this corrupt society."


End file.
